


Random Pieces without a Home

by JayceCarter



Series: Random Fallout Shenanigans [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, Drug-Induced Sex, Flirting, Fluff, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:17:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9473051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: This is a collection of one-shot pieces and shenanigans so they stay nice, neat, and out of the way. I'll add summaries on each one and any pairings in the chapter titles.Each chapter is a stand-alone, so the depictions of the characters and stories do not follow from one chapter to another, unless otherwise noted.If you liked any story in particular and want to see more from a specific pair or story, leave me a comment so I know!





	1. Nora/Maxson - Truth, Dare, and Beer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon and Nora play truth or dare, which leads them to playing some pranks on Elder Maxson. Surprise surprise, Maxson isn't known for a great sense of humor.

“If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you.”

 

“I swear, I’ll never breathe a word about it to anyone. Come on, I’m like a vault.”

 

“Not the best example to use when talking to someone who escaped from a vault.”

 

Deacon grinned, his stupid sunglasses reflecting her own face back to her. So, maybe getting drunk with him hadn’t been the best plan. Deacon was the brother she’d never had, the one who talked her into stupid things and then ran away when she got caught. “So, admit it.”

 

“Fine. He’s sort of handsome in an infuriating, arrogant, ‘I know I’m good looking’ sort of way.”

 

“He’s also young enough to be your great great great great-“

 

“-If you want to keep your teeth, stop with four greats.”

 

“-Great grandson. Way to rob the ovaries with that one.”

 

“It’s not like that. I just like to look at him. He’s like a really pretty but terribly uncomfortable chair. It’s great to have around to brighten up the space, looks nice, but if you try to actually use it-“

 

“-You’ll end up feeling his splinter?”

 

Nora rolled her eyes. “Alright. Your turn.”

 

“Truth.”

 

“What’s your real hair color?”

 

“Fabulous. Now your turn.”

 

“I don’t know why I play this game with you. You always lie anyway. Fine, dare.”

 

Deacon took another drink of the beer, his eyes lifting from the campfire, up toward the Prydwen. “Oh, I’ve got a dare for you alright.”

 

#

 

Deacon wrapped a hand over Nora’s mouth to hold in her giggles. All those beers didn’t bode well for a stealth mission, but the two were too drunk to care.

 

“You’re going to blow our cover,” Deacon whispered into her ear.

 

“Am not.” The words came past his hands as unintelligible sounds.

 

“But I guess that’s better than blowing Maxson. Here, take this.” He handed her a stealthboy. “You’re about as sneaky as a pissed off Brahmin when you’re sober, so I think we might need the high-tech solution here.” He pulled his hand away from her mouth.

 

“Okay, so, two down, one to go.”

 

“This one’s the hardest. Gotta get into his quarters while he’s sleeping, which-“

 

Nora elbowed him in the side to shut up whatever quip he’d come up with. She had to admit, he had a knack with pre-pubescent boy humor. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard so many innuendos in such a short amount of time. “Hush. I need to get ready.”

 

They crept to outside of the Elder’s chamber, trailed by the scent of alcohol and their giggles. Nora pulled out her lock picks and worked at the door. He didn’t lock it during the day, but it seemed he didn’t like company at night.

 

She broke three of them before it slid open. “Amateur,” Deacon muttered.

 

“Stay here, I’m going in.”

 

Nora hit the stealth boy and crept into the room, trying desperately to keep from laughing. The milk in his alcohol bottles, the fake medical orders from Knight-Captian Cade for him to receive nothing but pureed food for a week, and now the perfect finish to a night of drunken shenanigans.

 

Nora crept past the bed, where his arm hung over, as if even the bed weren’t large enough for him. She went to the far chair, where his coat hung.

 

She pulled the sign from her pocket and adhered it to the back of his battlecoat with some duct tape.

 

The perfect crime.

 

#

 

Nora stared at the sign, which read ‘JAILBAIT,’ and Maxson’s less than happy face.

 

Maybe not the perfect crime. Still, a hilarious one.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she lied.

 

“Really? This isn’t your handiwork?”

 

“Nope, not at all.”

 

“Any idea who might have done this?”

 

“Probably someone very drunk who was egged on by someone else even drunker, and while I might not know who did it, I’m quite sure they never thought they’d be found out.”

 

He looked strange off the Prydwen. She’d never seen him leave before, never seen him among the Commonwealth filth. It didn’t suit him, if she had to be honest. The fact that he’d come down to her settlement to confront her personally should have made her nervous. Instead, it amused her.

 

“So you get drunk and play pranks? You’re lucky you didn’t get shot.”

 

“Who hasn’t been shot a time or two? It’s a rite of passage, like parallel parking or strip poker.”

 

“You’re lucky I don’t throw in a cage for a few days for insubordination. Also, the fact that you mock my age while playing drunken pranks is not lost on me.”

 

“Did you laugh? I bet you laughed.”

 

He tossed the sign on a nearby table. “I chuckled at the milk. I rolled my eyes at the food. The sign, however, I can’t say I understood. What is jailbait?”

 

Nora’s cheeks heated. “Well, it’s nothing. Just an old term having to do with the illegal nature of sleeping with people who were underage.”

 

He lifted an eyebrow, the arrogant gesture that always managed to make her feel about a foot tall. “Since you seem to be awfully curious about whether or not you’re allowed to sleep with me, I can assure you, I am of age.”

 

He walked to the doorway before looking over his shoulder. “And, Nora? I suggest you stay out of my quarters unless you want me to demonstrate exactly how of age I am. Understood?”

 

Nora swallowed hard before nodded. “Understood.”

 

Maxson left without another word, but she swore she heard him laugh.

 

Deacon walked in and threw Nora a wink. “Well, I hope you enjoy splinters.”

 


	2. Nora/Hancock - I Don't Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxson blackmails Nora into giving him an heir. Can she escape Maxson's plans? Will she and Hancock survive the ordeal? Or will Nora lose another child to the wastelands? 
> 
> ***This chapter has non-con****

“Do you think you’re safe here?” Maxson folded his hands behind his back, chest puffed out, arrogance written all over his face if it would make him look older.

 

Nothing but a child playing war.

 

“I think you’re in my settlement, and it’s not a good time for you to be making demands.” Nora remained sitting, hand on the pistol at her hip.

 

“I have a squad of soldiers in power armor out there. You have farmers. If I want something, I can assure you, I’ll take it.” His gaze ran up her leg.

 

Nora hid the shudder that ran through her. Like hell he’d come in here and shove her and her people around. “You know the old saying, be careful what you wish for? Trust me, I’m one of those things.”

 

“What you are, is good pre-war genetics, which is exactly what I need.”

 

“No, stop, you’re flattering me.” Nora inspected the nails on her free hand. Maybe if she ignored him long enough, he’d leave in peace.

 

“Let’s make a deal.”

 

“You’ve got nothing I want, thus no deal to be made. You lack bargaining power.”

 

“I think you’ll change your mind. What I have is an ability to make your life very unpleasant. What I want is an heir. Pretty simple exchange.”

 

“I lost one child to the institute. You’re insane if you think I’ll be handing one over to you.”

 

“I don’t expect you to hand it over. I’d expect you to raise it, aboard the Prydwen or at the Citadel; the choice would be yours.”

 

“There is no way I’d ever agree to that. You won’t be laying a single filthy hand on me.”

 

“I think you’ll find I can be very persuasive. I need an heir, and I doubt the wasteland has a healthier or better genetic option than you. I can be accommodating. Until the time you conceive, you will be welcome to come and go from the Prydwen at your leisure, so long as you return on schedule.”

 

“I’m going to suggest you leave, now. While you still can.”

 

He pulled his lips back in a move that could almost be a smile, but seemed more like a flash of teeth. He walked out, pulled his pistol, and pressed it to a settler’s temple. “I told you I can make this unpleasant, Nora.”

 

“You’re going to want to put that down.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because if you don’t, the sniper who has you in his crosshairs will blow your brains out.”

 

“There’s no-“ A bullet slammed into the dirt by Maxson’s boot.

 

“Oh, there is, and he hates warning shots. I can assure you, you’ll only get one.”

 

Maxson pulled the pistol and shoved it back into his coat. “Understand this, Nora, I am not going away. You won this round, but this isn’t over. I have an army, an airship, and an ability to destroy everything you have. You can’t be at every settlement, protecting your precious Railroad, your minutemen, everyone else. And until you give me what I want, I will burn them all, one by one. And Nora, don’t even think about running.”

 

“I don’t run.”  

 

He turned, his soldiers following him.

 

“MacCready can take that shot,” Deacon said from her left. “He’d be gone, along with his whole squad.”

 

“And then the Brotherhood would wipe us out for it. We have to buy time, figure out a way to deal with him.”

 

#

 

Hancock sat across from Nora, gauging her mood. She’d said nothing since Maxson left, just paced, stared into the fire, worked on her weapons. She was strung tighter than him when he ran out of mentats.

 

“So you gonna tell me what he wants?”

 

Nora set down the gun on the workbench, her back to him. “He wants me.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“He’s decided I’m a good genetic match to give him an heir.”

 

“Well that’ll happen about fucking never. I’m amazed you didn’t castrate him.”

 

She resumed her pacing. “Trust me, I thought about it. The problem is, he’s right. Not about the heir thing, but the rest. He’s got a fucking airship! He could mow down every settlement from the air before I could ever get there. I don’t get into fights that are hopeless, not when there are innocent people who will pay the price.”

 

“You aren’t actually thinking about it, are you?”

 

She said nothing for a minute, staring down at her hands. “No. No, of course not. I lost Shaun, I can’t lose another child. I’d never let him or the brotherhood turn a child of mine into a monster. I’ve been down that road once before. I just don’t see a solution yet.”

 

When she paced past him, Hancock caught her hand and pulled her into his lap. “Come ‘ere, sister. Just relax for a minute. We’ll figure this out.”

 

He pressed his fingers into the muscles at her shoulders, full of knots and tension. The woman carried too much on her own shoulders, always wanting to fix the world for everyone else. She’d destroyed the institute, killed her own son in the process, just to give the world a better future.

 

She deserved some peace.

 

Too bad the wasteland didn’t offer that.

 

“I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know what to do.”

 

“For tonight? Come on, let me take you to bed.”

 

“That won’t fix this.”

 

“No, but I promise I can make you forget about it for a couple hours, at least.” He drew her into a kiss, loving the way she melted into it, the way she surrendered to him.

 

He couldn’t fix it, but he would damn well help her forget for the night.

 

#

 

“General.” Preston’s voice woke Nora, despite the way he whispered it.

 

Nora slid from the bed beside Hancock, careful to not wake him. He didn’t like mornings, and he’d worked plenty hard the night before. She smiled, seeing the way he rolled over toward where she’d been, as if searching for her even in his sleep.

 

Nora pulled on her vault suit and left the house. “What’s going on?”

 

Preston’s face said everything.

 

“What did he do?”

 

“Brotherhood vertibirds attacked the Slog last night.”

 

“That fucking prick. Casualties?”

 

“No. I think it was a warning. They destroyed the defenses and set fire to the crops. He left a message.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

“He said ‘I hate warning shots. You’ll only get one.’”

 

Nora looked back over her shoulder, toward the door, toward where Hancock slept. He’d never let her go. “You can’t tell him where I went.”

 

“He’ll figure it out.”

 

“Then lie. If he follows me, they’ll kill him.”

 

“They might kill you.”

 

“No. He needs me alive. But I swear, he’ll wish he had killed me when I’m finished with him.”

 

#

 

“So you changed your mind?” Maxson stood on the command deck, everyone else having run off as soon as she showed up.

 

“You’re making a big mistake.”

 

“You think? It seems I’m getting everything I want. And really, I’m being rather fair. Like I said, you’ll be allowed to leave as soon as we’re finished. You’ll need to return weekly for examinations and additional attempts. Other than that, for now, you’ll be free. You might want to say thank you.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

He laughed. “I find I enjoy your little outbursts, more than I should. No one talks to me that way.”

 

“If you don’t like it, I’d be happy to leave.”

 

“We have some business to attend to, first.” He held his hand out, toward his quarters.

 

“Right now?” Nora stared toward the door, her feet refusing to move. Everything got small, the room, the oxygen, her skin. The only thing that stayed impossibly large was the man standing in front of the door to his room.

 

“I didn’t expect you would want me to romance you first. Dinner? Drinks?”

 

Nora drew her hands into fists, lifted her head, then walked past Maxson and into the room.

 

The click of the lock sealed them in.

 

His hand set on her shoulder, and even though Nora told herself to stay still, she couldn’t. She jerked away from his touch.

 

“Come on, Nora. You don’t have to hate this. We’re both adults, people in power, why not just try to enjoy it?”

 

“I will never enjoy this. I don’t have a choice in this. I don’t want you and I will never want you.”

 

He grabbed her arms and pulled her against his chest. “Look, this is going to happen either way. And it will happen until you give me an heir. How it goes it up to you. I can be hard-“ He shoved her back against the wall hard enough her head spun. “Or I can be gentle.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to her throat.

 

The touch made her stomach twist. It lacked the burn of Hancock’s lips, the way radiation poured off him, made him warmer. Nora closed her eyes and thought of Hancock, tried to pretend she was with him.

 

Maxson pulled down her zipper, sliding her vault suit off her shoulders. His breath fell below her chest as he dropped to his knees, pulling the suit down her hips, over her thighs. “You’re gorgeous,” he breathed, drawing goosebumps on her skin.

 

“Stop it.”

 

His hands froze. “Excuse me?”

 

“Just do it. We aren’t lovers, we aren’t friends.”

 

His fingers gripped her waist. “I’ve heard stories about you and that ghoul, you know. I didn’t think they could be true. A beautiful woman like you letting a monster like that paw all over her?”

 

“He does a hell of a lot more than paw at me. And he doesn’t have to blackmail me to do it.”

 

Maxson’s fingers dug into her skin until she hissed.

 

“So, gentle is out then, I guess.”

 

He pulled her away from the wall and turned her, so her face smashed into the wall. She tasted blood. His arm pressed between her shoulder blades, pinning her to the wall. Nora shut her eyes, but didn’t struggle.

 

“You’re mine, Nora. Don’t let me find out you let that filth touch you, defile you.” His weight left her for a minute, before he shoved into her. Nora bit down on her lip, refusing to give in, to cry out. His hand wrapped around her throat. “You are mine. You’re going to be with me, over and over, until you start growing my child in your stomach. You’re never going to be rid of me.”

 

He pulled out and thrust into her again. His fingers tightened around her throat, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to hurt. “Gentle isn’t bad, but I have to admit, I like this too.”

 

“Don’t get used to it,” Nora whispered. “I’m here until I figure out a way to kill you.”

 

“I do like that mouth,” he hissed and bit her neck.

 

#

 

Nora slid into the Statehouse. She needed to clean up before Hancock saw her. Maxson had a vertibird drop her off outside the gates on purpose, as a message to him. She felt like a chew toy Maxson had used and dropped at Hancock’s feet.

 

It was a message she didn’t want delivered.

 

Nora went to the top floor, where she’d set up a chest when she and he first started traveling. She pulled a new outfit out, a jumpsuit that secured high on the neck.

 

“You should have woken me up.” Hancock’s raspy voice filled the space. He stood near the doorway.

 

Nora kept her back to him. “You would have stopped me.”

 

“Damn right I would have. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice yourself. You’ve given up too much for all of us already.”

 

“I can’t let him kill my people. They depend on me.”

 

Hancock’s hand wrapped around her arm and yanked, turning her to face him. As soon as he did, his lip lifted in a snarl and he yanked his hand back.

 

#

 

Nora’s face was a mess. Blood covered the bottom half, some from her nose, some from a slice in her lip. It had dried, obscuring the dark bruising that had started on her cheek, over the bridge of her nose.

 

“I’ll kill him.”

 

“Not before I do.”

 

He reached up, but hesitated before he touched her. Would she want him to touch her?

 

Nora tilted into his touch, pressed her cheek against his fingers.

 

“What did he do?”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve got a week to figure something out.”

 

Hancock pulled away from her and grabbed a rag and some water from the chest. “Come down stairs. No reason to hide out up here; I’ve already seen you.”

 

Nora followed him, slow, but moving on her own. He didn’t see any serious damage, just superficial wounds that would heal up with a stimpack.

 

How could he have let this happen? He wanted to find the bastard, to tear him apart, to show him true pain.

 

But there was time for that later. For now, Nora mattered.

 

“Sit.” He nodded at the couch as he shut the door to his room, closing them in together. Nora didn’t care for others seeing any weakness, so he knew she wouldn’t want anyone seeing her.

 

Hancock moved an empty bottle from the way. Nora winced as she sat. The bottle shattered in Hancock’s grip.

 

“Sorry,” he muttered and soaked the rag in water. “Let’s get you washed up, yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Hancock wiped at her cheek, using the least force he could to remove the dried blood. The rag turned red, but after a few minutes he’d cleared most of the mess away. “That’s better,” he rasped.

 

Nora wouldn’t meet his gaze, staring off into space.

 

That look made him anxious.

 

“Can I?” He touched the zipper at her throat. The blood went below the neckline of the vault suit.

 

“Let’s not, okay?” She reached up to still his hand, but the action pulled down the suit enough for him to spot bruises at her throat.

 

The bastard had choked her. Hancock stared at the fingermarks that marred her perfect skin. He took a deep breath, trying to still his fingers.

 

She didn’t need him growling. She didn’t need him furious. She needed him calm, a rock for her to lean against.

 

“Let me take care of you, please.”

 

Her fingers released his hand. He pulled the zipper down to her stomach, seeing the damaged skin revealed. Deep teeth marks dotted her neck, where it met her shoulder. They sat like a brand on her, and there had been no reason to leave such a mark other than a claim.

 

Hancock used the rag to clean the last of the blood that had dripped down her chest. He tossed the rag aside.

 

“Will you look at me?”

 

“I can’t.”

 

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the bruise on her cheek. She shuddered at the touch. He followed the trail of damage, pressing chaste kisses to each mark. One to the bite marks at her neck, another to the bruises on her throat. He kneeled in front of her, pressing his lips to the fingermarks on her hips. He lavished gentle attention to the evidence of what she’d suffered.

 

She trembled and finally met his gaze.

 

“Better.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “How can you be okay with me?”

 

“I love you, Nora. Nothing changes that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m furious, and I will take him apart for this, but you? You and I are good. We always are.” He sat up straight and pulled her toward him for a kiss.

 

Nora yanked away. “Don’t.”

 

“Sorry.” He looked away. Stupid. He should have known she wouldn’t want him on her.

 

“No. I just, I need to shower. I need to wash him off me.” She started to breathe harder. “Oh, God, I need to wash him off.”

 

“Okay, Sister. Breathe a little slower for me, yeah? We’ll get you washed up.”

 

Hancock wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her to the bathroom.

 

He was going to kill the mother fucker for this.

 

#

 

Nora woke, John’s arms around her. She snuggled in closer, thankful the stimpack had taken care of all the physical reminders. It was still there, rattling around in her head, but at least the marks, the bruises, they were gone.

 

She’d washed his smell away, his touch, cleared off the wounds. All that was left was the ugliness in her brain.

 

“Morning, sunshine.” The rasp of John’s voice helped scrub out what Maxson had left. His fingers tightened at her waist, the sort of half-asleep motion that made up their lives.

 

She knew the moment he woke fully, because he pulled away. “Sorry.”

 

She rolled over, pushing her body against his. “Don’t stop.”

 

“It was just yesterday. We don’t have to rush. It’s okay.”

 

“I need you.” She hesitated. “Unless you don’t want to.” Maybe it was too much for him. Maybe he didn’t want her anymore.

 

“You stop that, Sister. I said it doesn’t change a thing between us and I meant it.”

 

“Show me, then, because right now I need someone to touch me like they like me, I need to remind myself that I don’t belong to him. Right now, I really fucking need you.”

 

John pulled her into a kiss, rolling her to her back and anchoring himself above her.

 

#

 

The week went by too fast. Tomorrow Nora had to return. Tomorrow she had to go back.

 

“We could hide you.” Deacon leaned against the wall of the Railroad HQ, his pose casual though nothing else about him was. “He’d never find you.”

 

“He’d destroy everything looking. I can’t put everyone else in his crosshairs. Until I can take him out, I have to keep this up. How are we on that?”

 

Deacon shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s coming along. Tinker Tom has a plan, but it’s going to take time.”

“How much time?”

 

“A couple weeks, maybe a month. Hell, Fixer, I’d like to have it ready today but we just aren’t. We can hide you until it is ready.”

 

“I can’t. No one else will die because of me.”

 

His lips thinned, tight and angry. Deacon didn’t wear angry well. “I can’t send you back up there like that.”

 

“Remember when we chased that synth down for Shaun? We had to play their game, right? We didn’t have a choice. That’s what I’m doing, I’m playing Maxson’s game until I can get the upper hand. And I will, Deacon, I will get the upper hand.”

 

“I need to help. I know you’re doing this for us, too, and I need to do something.”

 

Nora reached out and squeezed his hand. “Keep an eye on Hancock. Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

 

#

 

Knight-Captain Cade held Nora’s arm as the needle slid in. He refused to meet her gaze, to acknowledge her.

 

“How quickly will you know?”

 

“Two weeks after conception we would detect the hormones. These tests will give me a baseline, helpful both to detect pregnancy and after she conceives.”

 

“Anything you can do to increase the chances?”

 

“No. A healthy couple can take up to six months to conceive. There are some fertility drugs, but most have risks, and unless I were to know she required them, I think the risk would be too high.”

 

Maxson met at Nora’s gaze. “So you will come here first for bloodwork when you arrive on the Prydwen.”

 

Nora nodded.

 

Cade finished the examination, storing the vials of blood before placing a bandage over the needle mark. “She’s done.”

 

Maxson placed a hand behind Nora as she stood, but she pulled away. She didn’t want him touching her.

 

She walked to his quarters, ignoring the latch of the lock.

 

“The marks are gone.”

 

“A stimpack does wonders.”

 

“I miss them. You look nice with some color. So what did you do with your free time? Try to figure out some way to get away?”

 

“I don’t run.”

 

“I can see that. I half expected to have to track you down. I was looking forward to it, to hauling you up here and locking you up for good.”

 

He walked up to her, close enough his chest was against hers. Nora kept her shoulders straight, staring him down. “I don’t run from a fight, Maxson.”

 

He wrapped his hand in her hair. “This isn’t a fight. You’ve already lost. This is just you accepting the inevitable.”

 

“You know who else told me that?”

 

He yanked the zipper of her suit down.

 

“Kellogg. Right before I put a bullet between his eyes.”

 

Maxson shoved her onto the mattress. Nora didn’t fight, refused to give him any reason to do more damage than he had to, not that she suspected he needed a reason.

 

“The institute told me that too. Then I blew them to hell.”

 

He dug his fingers into her thighs.

 

“I’ll put you down, too.”

 

#

 

Hancock threw the bottle across the room. It shattered against the wall, raining shards down across Valentines office.

 

“Ellie’ll give you hell for making a mess.” The synth offered a cigarette.

 

“What can we do?”

 

“Nothing. We have to get everything in order, and it takes time. I’ve been talking to Deacon, and he’s working as fast as he can. He’s going everything.”

 

Hancock collapsed into the chair across from Valentine. “You don’t understand. You don’t have to clean her up afterward.”

 

“That woman is made of steel. Not even Maxson can bend that.”

 

Nick didn’t understand. He hadn’t seen her, hadn’t seen her eyes. He hadn’t wiped off the blood, shoved stimpacks into her thigh to fix the bruises. Even steel melted in a furnace. “It’s been a month. He’s chipping away at her. I don’t know what to do.”

 

Nick leaned forward. “The old Nick, the real Nick, was a detective. He dealt with people who’d been put through hell, saw the aftermath. If there was one truth, it was that the people with ties, the ones with friends who stuck with them, they made it. The best thing you can do for Nora is to be there. Make sure she knows she isn’t alone. She’ll give up everything to save people, she’ll do it alone if she can, but she needs to know she isn’t alone, that we’ll be there for her through anything.”

 

“Everytime I look at her I see him. I can’t get it out of my head.”

 

“Well you better, because she needs you. She’ll tear him apart all on her own. She doesn’t need a protector, she needs a partner. When is she due back?”

 

“When she wakes up. Just another few hours.”

 

“Why don’t you go with me to see Deacon? Keeping busy will help.”

 

Hancock shook his head. He didn’t think anything would help, unless it was Maxsons head on a fucking platter.

 

#

 

Nora grabbed Cade’s arm. “You can’t tell him.”

 

The doctor stared at her hand, and she saw the struggle. He didn’t like this anymore than she did. “I have to. I’m sorry, but I don’t have a choice.”

 

“Just, keep it secret. The tests screwed up. It happens all the time. Give me a week.”

 

“You’ll run, and he’ll figure it out. This is more than a game, he’ll kill anyone who gets in his way. You’re in his kingdom, Nora. None of us have any choices. I’m sorry.”

 

Nora’s brain spun. She couldn’t let this happen. It had all gone too fast. She pulled a scalpel from the tray beside the bed and pressed it to his throat. “I’ll kill you before he gets the chance.”

 

“What has you all riled up, my darling,” came Maxson’s voice from the doorway.

 

“Let me go. I’m not playing this game anymore.”

 

“Put that down. You won’t kill him.”

 

“I will. I’ve destroyed far more.”

 

“You sure have, but he’s no danger to you. Killing him won’t save you, won’t change a thing. So let’s not play this game.”

 

He was right. Nora wouldn’t kill Cade. He had as little choice as she did. She would kill Maxson, however.

 

Nora lunged, the scalpel aimed for his throat. He knocked it from her hand, twisted her around and wrapping his arm around her throat.

 

“Careful,” Cade called.

 

“Don’t interfere,” Maxson growled out, tightening the grip.

 

Indecision ran across Cade’s face. He wanted to help her, and he didn’t know what would help. “I’m telling you to be careful because she’s pregnant. Any damage could cause her to lose your heir.”

 

Maxson pressed his lips into her hair, loosening his grip. “Well, it seems you’ll be staying a while.”

 

#

 

Nora stared out over the water.

 

“You thinking about jumping?” Maxson closer a hand around her arm.

 

“I told you, I don’t run.”

 

He’d treated her with kindness, at least as much as she suspected he knew how. Cade had fudged some facts, tried to do what he could. He’d said she was at high risk for miscarriage, warned off any injuries, and said no sex. It had given Nora peace.

 

Not that a week and a half of captivity was easy to take at the best of times. Still, it was better than the alternative.

 

Morning sickness had hit her hard, and her clothing already loosened.

 

She missed Hancock. She hadn’t been away from him this long in months. Sleep evaded her, and when she did sleep, she only saw Shaun’s face. She’d failed Shaun, and now she was failing this baby, too.

 

“Elder, there’s an issue with the engines.” A recruit delivered the message.

 

“Keep an eye on her,” Maxson said to a Paladin in power armor.

 

“Yes, Elder.”

 

Maxson left, and Nora went back to staring at the water.

 

“View’s nice, but I think the company leaves a bit wanting.”

 

Nora’s eyes widened. She kept herself still, forced herself to keep looking out, even when everything in her wanted to throw her arms around Deacon. “Everything ready?”

 

“Tomorrow.”

 

“How’s John?”

 

“He’ll survive. What made Maxson decide to hold onto you?”

 

Nora couldn’t say the words, couldn’t admit it. “He got tired of letting me go,” she whispered.

 

Maxson returned, cutting off their conversation. “That’s enough air, for now. You need another Rad-x treatment. Your numbers are still too high.”

 

“My numbers are fine. Cade said so.”

 

His fingers wrapped around her arm. “Your numbers are high because you let that ghoul desecrate you.”

 

“Over and over,” Nora hissed.

 

He tightened his grip. “You will never see that abomination again.”

 

“He is more of a man than you will ever be, and I promise you one thing. He’ll be there after I end you.”

 

Maxson wrapped his fingers in her hair and yanked her toward the door.

 

Deacon’s fingers moved toward his rifle, but Nora jerked her head no. He couldn’t shoot here. They had a plan. Another day, that’s all they had to wait.

 

#

 

The night lasted forever. It drug on, the creaking of the metal, the whir of the engines. Nora pressed her hand against her stomach, as if she could protect the life there.

 

What world was she bringing a baby into?

 

Not to mention, she planned to murder the child’s father.

 

She forced herself to rest, to close her eyes. Tomorrow would be difficult, and she had less energy due to the pregnancy. She needed sleep, needed to ready herself.

 

Maxson better enjoy his night, because one of them would be dead by tomorrow.

 

#

 

The first bullet called to Nora, a song, a battle cry.

 

Finally.

 

She couldn’t do shit when under Maxson’s thumb, stuck, unable to fight. Finally, she was in her atmosphere.

 

The door to her room opened, and Nora saw the face she’d needed.

 

She threw herself into Hancock’s arms, reveling in the burn of his skin, in the roughness of his burns. “Oh, sunshine, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he rasped and kissed her.

 

Someone pressed a rifle into her hands, not bothering to separate them, just trying to remind her.

 

Nora pulled away, examining the weapon. “Nice.”

 

“I aim to please,” Deacon said, then slid his arms around her, too.

 

Nick peeked his head around the corner. “Hey, Doll, thought you might be ready to blow this joint?”

 

“I’ve got a score to settle first, but yeah.”

 

“I bet you do,” Nick said and nodded to her. “Let’s go.”

 

Nora followed the three, ignoring the bodies of soldiers on the floor.

 

“Wait,” She said and stopped at the medical center. Hancock raised his weapon to shoot Cade, but Nora pushed the barrel down. “Don’t kill him. He didn’t have a choice. He did what he could to help.”

 

Cade looked at Nora, and she saw all the anguish in that face. She knew it, remembered it on her own face when she’d blown up the institute. Doing something you hated, trying to do the right thing, it wore on people. “I’ll be in Diamond City when you need me,” he said.

 

Hancock cast her a look, but Nora shook her head. She still couldn’t say it, couldn’t admit anything, least of all to him.

 

“Everything is clear, but Maxson’s missing. Could he have run?” A railroad agent made the report, blood on his clothes.

 

“If he ran, I’ll track him down. If he’s hiding, I’ll burn him to the ground along with this damned ship.” Nora grabbed the ladder and pulled herself up.

 

At the top, a clicking of a weapon caught her attention. The press of a muzzle to her temple reinforced it.

 

“You think this will save you?” Maxson wrapped his hand around her throat. “It won’t. I’m an Elder, I’ll just get another ship, more soldiers.” He pulled her in front of her as the other men climbed up the ladder.

 

“So, this is your little team? Poor excuses for soldiers.”

 

“Let her go,” Hancock said.

 

“So you’re her little lover? Doesn’t matter. She’s mine.”

 

“You aren’t leaving here with her.”

 

He pressed his lips against her ear, but spoke loud enough everyone could hear him. “You’re carrying my child; you think he’s going to want you still?” His hand left her throat and touched her stomach.  

 

“The child isn’t yours, it’s mine.” Nora slung her head back into the bridge of Maxson’s nose. The crunch of it Nora committed to memory, to help her when the nights were long. She pulled her rifle to her shoulder, aimed at him.

 

“That’s my child, Nora. You’ll never be able to run away from me.”

 

“I told you, I don’t run.” Nora pulled the trigger, unleashing one bullet after another, far more than she needed, but not nearly enough. She pulled the trigger until it stopped firing, until she’d run out of bullets.

 

After a moment, a hand set on her shoulder. She jerked away, only to realize it belonged to Hancock.  “Are you?” His gaze dropped to her stomach.

 

Nora dropped the gun and put her hands over her still flat stomach. She couldn’t say it, only nodded. Would he leave her? Would he decide he couldn’t do this, that it was too much, too far.

 

Hancock dropped to his knees before her, pressing his lips to her stomach. “I always wanted kids. Ghouls, we’re sterile, I never thought I’d get the chance.”

 

“You’re okay with this?”

 

“Nora, I love you, and I’d love your child as much. Can’t say I’d be much of a father. . .”

 

Nora slid down to her knees and pressed her lips against his. “You’ll be a great Dad.”

 

Deacon held out a detonator to Nora. “As sweet as this is, how about we go blow this place to hell?”

 

Nora grinned and nodded. “Gladly.”


	3. Nora/Hancock - I Don't Run part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of "I Don't Run." Hancock and Nora have to deal with the reality of raising the child sired by Maxson. Mostly family fluff.

The child, Emma they had named her, suckled at Nora’s breast. She stared down at her, her fingers gripping the blanket swaddled around the infant.

 

She never thought she’d have this. Never thought she’d get another chance.

 

Hancock sat by the bed, watching over the two of them as he since the birth. He came no closer, though, never attempted to hold the baby. Sure, it had only been two weeks, but shouldn’t he want to hold her? Shouldn’t he want to wrap his arms around little Emma?

 

“Did you change your mind?” Nora refused to look up, just stared into Emma’s face as if that could make it hurt less.

 

“About what, sunshine?”

 

“About me. About her.”

 

“No, of course not.”

 

“Then why won’t you hold her? It’s been two weeks, John. I know you wanted her, but, maybe it’s different now. Maybe she looks like Maxson did, maybe you don’t feel the way you thought you would. I don’t know, you won’t talk to me.”

 

Silence filled up all the questions between then, and Nora could only hold Emma tighter.

 

Finally, Hancock spoke. “She looks perfect, just like her Mama. Maxson has nothing to do with her.”

 

“Then what’s wrong?” Nora took a deep breath, trying to stop the tears that wanted to fall, as she met his gaze.

 

“I’m fucking terrified, Nora. When you were pregnant it was easy, just keep you safe. Now she’s here, and I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I’m a junkie, just a useless ghoul covered in burns and scars, what sort of father is that for anything? Hell, I might make her sick just from holding her. Poison her with radiation. She deserves so much fucking better of a father than me.”

 

#

 

Hancock was many things, but he wasn’t a coward. He met Nora’s eyes the whole time, as he spilled out all the ugly thoughts that had rattled around his head.

 

Maxson had fuck-all to do with this. Hancock didn’t care that the Maxson DNA ran through that little girl’s body, he just cared that she deserved the world, and he wasn’t good enough to give her that.

 

Emma released Nora’s breast, cuddled into the warm of her mother’s body.

 

But he wished he were good enough, because the two of them were his whole world.

 

“Cade already said we would watch her radiation numbers, but that there was no reason to worry.”

 

Hancock could think of no better way to explain, so he brought his hand up beside Nora and Emma’s. “See? You two are perfect, and I don’t fucking fit.”

 

The flawless skin of their hands stood out against the ravaged burns that covered his own. The gnarled ridges and valleys of his scars, the red hue, it all said the same thing. One of these things don’t match the others.

 

Emma wrapped her little hand around his fingers, grip strong. He froze, wanted to jerk away from the touch but unwilling to upset her.

 

“She knows you, John. She’s only known one father. It was the voice that sang her to sleep in my belly, the voice that swore he’d keep her safe, that spoke to her in whispered secrets when you thought I’d fallen asleep. You’re the only father she wants, John, and I know you’ll be a great one.”

 

John wrapped his arm around Emma, leaving her to grip his finger. He pulled her against his chest, and she curled into his warmth the same as she had to Nora.

 

She did know him. She trusted him.

 

John licked his lips, tried to get his brain to work. He never thought he’d have this. When he’d lived in Diamond City as a human, he’d always been fighting, running, screwing up. No life for a kid in that. Then he’d turned ghoul, and he’d thought that had torn up that dream. Ghouls didn’t get kids, they didn’t get happy endings.

 

“She’s amazing,” he said, holding her close. “I’m gonna give her a good life.”

 

“I know you are.”

 

#

10 Years Later

 

“Ghouls can’t have kids.” Emma sat on the back of the couch, shrewd eyes daring John to lie to her.

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“So where did I come from, then?”

 

John rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. Sure, he’d know she’d ask someday. Really, he’d been amazed it had taken that long. She was a precocious child, always in trouble, always fighting something. She was the perfect mixture of he and Nora, quick to defend anyone, quicker to put down assholes.

 

“Well-“ he froze, the words in his throat. “Look, Emma, why don’t you run over to Daisy, yeah? We’ll talk tonight.”

 

Emma nailed him with a glare. “This conversation isn’t over, Dad.”

 

#

 

“She asked me.”

 

Nora looked up from her desk. “I could use a few more details.”

 

“Emma. She said she knew ghouls couldn’t have kids.”

 

“Oh.” Nora pushed the files away. “Yeah. Well, I guess we knew that was coming. What did you say?”

 

“I froze up, sent her on an errand to Daisy so I could run away.”

 

Nora shook her head. John had always been a sucker for Emma. The girl had wrapped her father around her finger the moment he’d held her, and he’d been lost ever since. “What are you so worried about?”

 

John sat in the chair beside her. “I’m not her father, not really. It was that asshole. What if she decides she doesn’t want me in her life anymore? What if she realizes what being a Maxson means for her, what she could do with that name? What if she hates me when she realizes. . .”

 

“John, you are her father. Blood doesn’t mean shit, we both know that. Your brother was an asshole. My son grew to be a monster. Blood doesn’t define who we are, or who our family is. Even if Maxson had lived, he wouldn’t have done anything for her. He wanted an heir, not a child. You’re the one who rocked her to sleep when she was an infant. You took a bullet for her when raiders attacked the settlement to keep her safe. You dragged Dr. Sun all the way from Diamond City when she got sick in the middle of the night. She couldn’t ask for a better father, for someone who would do more for her, who would love her more than you do.”

 

“What if she wants to leave? What if she decides being a Maxson is better than being the child of a ghoul?”

 

Nora took his hand and kissed it. “We raised her, John. We’ve got to trust her.”

 

#

 

John sat down in front of Emma, feeling like the time he faced off a Deathclaw mother when returning an egg.

 

Maybe a little more scared.

 

“So you figure out your answer?” God, she looked like Nora. She had a bit of height she’d gotten from Maxson, but otherwise, she was a replica of her mother. Same brown hair, same dark eyes, same fire.

 

“You already have your answer, don’t you? I ain’t your father, not really.”

 

“Who was?”

 

“You remember the story you heard your Mama tell? About the brotherhood?”

 

Emma nodded.

 

“Well, the man who lead them, Arthur Maxson, he was your father.”

 

“What happened to him?”

 

“He died.”

 

Emma looked away, eyes flashing as the pieces fell into place. “You killed him, didn’t you?”

 

“I helped. Your Mom pulled the trigger, but I was there too.”

 

“Was he a bad man?”

 

“Yeah, he was.” John wanted to reach over and hug the girl. Would she want him to? What would she do now that she knew? “What are you thinking?”

 

She shrugged, the non-committal she’d learned from Deacon. The spy had taught the little girl far too many tricks. “That it doesn’t really matter.”

 

“How can you say that? You don’t have to be okay with this, I’m tough. You can be honest.”

 

“Well, honestly, you’re an idiot.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

She smiled, and his heart stuttered. Fuck, he loved that kid. “I have an uncle who’s a synth, you can’t tell me he shares an ounce of blood. I’ve got another uncle who’s a super mutant. Let’s not forget Deacon, my cross-dressing, lying uncle. Is a ghoul as a Dad any different? Blood doesn’t make a family, Dad, and I’ve got a great family. A weird one, but I wouldn’t change any of them.” She wrapped her thin arms around him and hugged him the way she did when she was little, when she’d fall asleep and he’d have to carry her to bed. “You’re my Dad, and I wouldn’t change that for anything.”


	4. Nick/Nora - Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick is hesitant about relationships after being seen as a fetish object too many time. Can Nora convince him that she see's him as more than that?

#

 

Nora hadn’t ever planned to be so close to Nick, but then she hadn’t planned most of the things that her life had turned into. She hadn’t planned on being frozen, on having the world destroyed, or using bottle caps as currency. She hadn’t planned to be drug out to some shitty little shop to clear out raiders, or to be surprised by a wave of unplanned raiders who had showed up, and have Nick shove her into this tiny closet at the top of the stairs.

 

In the list of things that could have gone against plan, she supposed this was at the bottom in terms of severity. Sure, they had no room in the tiny closet. Nicks had plastered his back against one side, though his long legs still drifted across the space so Nora straddled one of his legs, her back to his chest, both trying to stay silent.

 

“They’re downstairs,” he whispered, the air hitting her ear warmer than she’d expected. Of course, even if he wasn’t flesh and blood, he had machinery, and machinery warmed up.

 

Nora whispered back, though she couldn’t see him. “You can hear them?”

 

“Institute gave me good sensors. They’re drinking down there. Give ‘em an hour or two and they’ll be passed out. We’ve just got to wait it out and we can sneak past them.”

 

“Great. They get to have happy hour and we’re stuck up here.”

 

He chucked so low she felt it through his chest. “Sorry, doll, I don’t have any liquor for you.”

 

Nora sighed, trying to run through all the lists in her head. Supplies needed, settlement improvements needed, mods she wanted. She thought about anything except the tiny room. She hated small spaces.

 

Spending 220 years in a freezer did that to a person.

 

She reached down and rubbed at her thighs. It had to have been fifteen minutes, and her legs were starting to cramp.

 

“Legs bothering you?”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“Liar.” His voice held no annoyance. “Come on, just lean on me more. I’m strong, and I don’t get muscle cramps like you do.”

 

Nora tried to come up with a good reason to argue, but she couldn’t. Sure, it was uncomfortable. She wasn’t a fan of straddling men in closets as a general course of action, but he was right. Her muscles had already grown tight, and her anxiety about the small space wasn’t helping any.

 

A hand touched her shoulder, and Nora jumped before realizing it had to be Nick. It wasn’t as if anyone else could have snuck into the enclosed space. “You alright?”

 

“I don’t like small spaces.”

 

He squeezed her shoulder, the tiny show of support he could manage in the space. “We’ll be out of here before you know it. Now stop overthinking it. I know it’s a bit strange, but we’re friends. Just lean on my leg. You’ll feel better.”

 

Nora rolled her eyes at his matter of fact voice. Leave it to him to break it down to basics she couldn’t argue with. Nora eased her weight down while he lifted his leg, sinking down a bit, until she was able to sit on his thigh. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but it did take the weight off her leg, and she was grateful. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

 

“Anytime,” he said, laughter in his voice.

 

#

 

Nick tried to keep the smile off his face as Nora’s discomfort. Sure, he wasn’t rushing to use any of his friends as chairs, but the way she’d held out made him smile. She was one stubborn dame.

 

Her weight was nothing to him. His frame held it with ease, and he could remain in a position like this for hours without growing weary. The idea that she’d hurt, that she would suffer, it had been absurd. He doubted she’d be thrilled with being that close to him, to being pressed up against a synth, but stubborn as she was, she was smart. They didn’t need to have to try and run while she had a leg cramp.

 

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined her this close, and a lot closer, in a few fantasies that he didn’t think about in mixed company. They were the sort of things he never considered with her so close, in case she could read it on her face. They were filthy things, things that would never happen, and things he didn’t want within a mile of her.

 

So having her resting against him, her body against his, it tested his ability to keep himself under control. This was Nora, his friend, one of his only real friends. He shoved the thought aside and let his head rest against the wall, trying to keep everything at bay.

 

#

 

Nora tried to figure it out. She’d rested against him for a few minutes, and a slight sensation pulled at her senses. It wasn’t shaking, exactly. It felt like when Nate used to play his music too loud, and it would move through the floor.

 

Nick. The vibrating was Nick.

 

Her checks flushed at the realization. Worse, the way she’d rested against him had placed his leg against her crotch, and the gentle sensation had not gone unnoticed if the wetness between her legs were any indication.

 

She tried to shift, to reduce the stimulation. This was awkward enough a situation without having to mention that she was getting off to him.

 

“You okay there, Doll?” His rough voice didn’t help. Had it always been so deep? She couldn’t recall having found it so attractive before, but her brain had stopped working about the time he’d started vibrating against her pussy.

 

She nodded, taking a moment to still her voice. “Yeah. Fine.”

 

“I’m sorry about the small space. We should be out of here before long.”

 

His words washed past her, meaningless. Not much mattered beyond the way his leg touched her, the way the sensations slid straight into her clit. Not enough to get her off, but enough to wind her up. Moving away didn’t seem to be possible, not without coming out and saying the issue.

 

She didn’t want to embarrass him. Nick was many things, but open about sex wasn’t one of them. She didn’t think he even had any interest, having never seen him mention any desire. The Gen 2’s she’d seen running around hadn’t been stacking up dates, so she’d never really thought about that side of him, if he had one. If she admitted what was going on, she could just see him stuttering, apologizing, mortified by himself, by her.

 

No, she couldn’t do that.

 

But maybe she could handle it herself. She’d taken care of her own needs often enough with others close by. Privacy was at a premium in the wasteland, so either she made do quietly, or she went without.

 

Nora bit her lip to stifle a moan. She spread her legs slightly and tried to tilt her hips forward. The vibrations were soft, but if she could get his leg directly against her clit, it would be enough.

 

#

 

Nick watched Nora tilt her hips, and he knew enough to know exactly what she was doing. Her breathing had sped, tiny noises she tried to hide escaping her throat.

 

She was beautiful, the way she bit her lip, the way her hips moved a hair, seeking contact. She was trying so hard to keep it secret, to not let him in on what was happening.

 

Too bad for her, he was a lot less clueless that she thought.

 

“It’s okay,” he whispered to her.

 

She jumped at his voice, as if she knew she’d been caught. “What?”

 

“It’s just a basic urge, Doll. I get it. Go ahead, use me.” The words caught in his throat. They felt wrong between them, but he couldn’t help it.

 

He’d give her anything she needed, anything she wanted, no matter how he felt about it.

 

“I can’t do that.”

 

“Why not? It’s alright, only us here. No reason for you to be keyed up, not if you can help it. We’re good, I promise.”

 

She hesitated, and he got the feeling she’d turn him down. He couldn’t blame her, the sorts of people who wanted to rut against a synth weren’t the type he liked either, but he didn’t want her uncomfortable. He lifted his leg, a quick movement that brought her harder against him.

 

She gasped, her hands coming forward and gripping his knee. Well, he’d hit the right spot. Whatever resistance she had melted away, and he watched her hips begin to move.

 

#

 

Nora moaned, grinding her clit against his leg. She’d thought about stopping, about calling this off, about the fact that she’d never be able to talk to him face to face again after this, but then his hands closed around her waist, helping to control her movements.

 

How had he learned how perfectly to do this? He directed her, between his leg and his hands, until Nora could do nothing but feel.

 

“That a girl,” he rasped, and Nora clutched her hands against him. That voice went straight to her cunt, drenching her. Why hadn’t she ever noticed before? Was it because it felt wrong to think of him that way? Right at the moment, she didn’t care. Nothing mattered except where he and her were connected.

 

Her legs tensed, her climax so close, she rubbed harder against him.

 

His hands tightened almost painfully at her hips. “Come on, Doll. You’re so close. Just let go.” His voice shoved her over the edge. Nick’s hand covered her mouth, sealing in the sounds that tried to escape as her muscles seized. She came hard, her thighs tightening around his leg, her nails digging into him.

 

After the waves subsided, she sagged backward, Nick’s strength keeping her upright.

 

It took a while for her brain to start again, for her breathing to slow. With it, however, her anxiety started up.

 

What had she done? How could she have done that? She’d never be able to look at Nick the same way again. She’d ground against him like a whore, had used him for her own pleasure. She was disgusted with herself.

 

#

 

Nick held her. Her body had been lax, trusting him to hold her. Then she’d come back to herself, and her muscles had tensed, the growing anxiety in the tiny space stifling.

 

She must have realized what she’d done. He’d seen that look before, the way people had shame take them over afterward. Synths were a fun distraction in the dark, but reality was a lot different. He’d been a toy for them, something to be used for fun then tucked into a drawer before company came.

 

Why would he think she’d be any different?

 

“I’m so sorry,” she muttered.

 

Of course she was. Still, he shoved away his hurt feelings. “Nothing to be sorry for. Just a basic biological urge. No shame in that.” The words felt empty, but he said them anyway.

 

All the times others had walked out on him after their curiosity had been sated, when they’d gotten their fill, their fun, it crushed in on him. He hated feeling like this. No matter what he did, how much good he did, he was just a toy, an object, a freak show.

 

He'd tried more than a few times, believed someone wanted him. They’d go somewhere alone, and they’d use him like a fetish item, then walk out like he didn’t matter.

 

Hadn’t he learned his lesson all those times before? Why would he leave himself open to that again? Especially with her, of all people? The one girl he’d thought seriously about, the one who mattered, and he put himself right back there again.

 

Stupid.

 

Nick cleared his throat, trying to focus. “They’re all out. We can take the roof exit, now.”

 

 

#

 

Nora covered her face. It had been two days, and she’d hardly seen Nick. They were normally inseparable, but after her screw up, he’d hardly looked at her.

 

Not that she’d been much better. She had avoided him like a schoolgirl with a crush.

 

Still, she’d thought about it. The way his hands had touched her hips, his breath on her neck, his voice. She’d woken up the night before mid-dream, body soaked with sweat, his name on her lips.

 

When had this happened?

 

Worse, he’d shown no sign of desire. She felt like a perv, lusting after someone who it seemed had no interest. He was sweet, and giving, and he’d taken one for the team for her, and it made her feel like trash. She’d used him, and even if he’d been okay with it, it had been wrong.

 

She had to apologize, to make it through the uncomfortable conversation with him. A gift always helped with any apology, so she headed to the market first.

 

#

 

A soft knock on the door had Nick looking up from his desk. Few people knocked, maybe because doors were so uncommon. “Come in.”

 

Nora walked in, her eyes on the ground.

 

And wasn’t he a sucker for her? Just seeing her made him smile. He’d missed her, and the strained way they’d gotten on since getting back had made him feel like he’d lost a limb, like something important had gone missing.

 

“Hey, Doll. What’s up?”

 

“Ellie here?”

 

“No. She’s at the Dugout Inn. Everything okay?”

 

She came in and took a seat in the chair in front of the desk. He remembered the day she’d sat there first, when she’d told him her story. She’d changed since then, grown more confident, fit in more. “We need to talk.”

 

He closed the file on the desk. “Alright. I’m listening.”

 

She kept staring down. He missed her eyes, the way she’d laugh and look at him. She hadn’t looked him in the eye since the closet.

 

“I’m sorry, about the closet.”

 

“I already told you not to be.”

 

“I am, though. I used you, and it was wrong.” She rubbed her fingers against her other arm, like she needed to move but couldn’t. “You matter to me, and I wasn’t thinking, and I know you aren’t interested, and you said okay because you care about me, and I shouldn’t have done that.” Her words thickened, and he saw her eyes turning red. “You’re my best friend, and I treated you like a thing. . .” the dam broke, and her words dissolved into tears.

 

“Ah, Doll,” he said and came around, kneeling down beside her. He wrapped his arms around her while her chest heaved.

 

She was upset for him? Not because she was ashamed of having been with him, but of using him? She didn’t want to hurt him? He didn’t know how to deal with that, how to process it. Instead, he held her, rubbing his good hand against her back, trying to soothe her. “I’m not mad at you. I know you care about me.”

 

“You should be mad at me. You should hate me.” The words were dotted with tiny gasps as she tried to control her breathing.

 

“I could never hate you. Come on, look at me, please?”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Hey, if you’re apologizing, don’t I get to call the shots?”

 

She brought her gaze up, meeting his. Her eyes were rimmed in red, misery filling them up. The girl was hurting, and while it was wrong, it pleased him a little, that she thought enough of him to hurt for him.

 

“That’s better. Are you listening to me now?”

 

She nodded.

 

“Good. I’m not upset about what happened in that closet. I’m not mad at you. I told you to, and while I don’t much care for admitting it, I enjoyed it. You, sweetheart, are beautiful when you come.”

 

Her cheeks flushed, and when she went to look away he captured her face between his hands, grateful when she didn’t flinch from his metal one. But then, she’d never flinched from him, from any of him, had she?

 

“You enjoyed it? I thought maybe you didn’t. . . Maybe the institute didn’t. . .”

 

He smiled at the way she stumbled over her words. For a girl who talked so much, he liked seeing her flustered. “You thought maybe sex wasn’t on my mind?”

 

“Well, I’ve never seen you flirt. I mean, I know Hancock screws anything that moves because I see it, but I’ve never seen you interested in anyone.”

 

“Just because I don’t chase skirts the way Hancock does doesn’t mean I’m not interested. I’ve had some bad experiences, so I’m a bit wary about it, that’s all.” He hadn’t meant to say it, but once he did, he was glad. He’d never admitted it to anyone, told anyone.

 

“What happened?” Her back straightened, and he swore she looked like she’d shoot anyone who might have hurt him. He loved that about her, the way she protected those she cared about.

 

He loved it?

 

He loved her?

 

Yeah, he knew he did.

 

“You know I’m not exactly like normal man. I’m an anomaly, and sometimes people are all too willing to ogle the freak.”

 

“They. . .”

 

He shook his head. “Nothing like that. I just confused desire with fascination too many times. I found people who used me like an object, to scratch an itch, to live out a fantasy, but who didn’t actually want me. Being used left a bad taste in my mouth, didn’t make me that eager to keep trying.”

 

She wrapped her hands around his, which still cupped her face. “I’m sorry. I used you, too. How can you not hate me?”

 

“Because you’re here. You don’t see me as an object, as a thing. You’re the only person in this whole damned world who really sees me. How could I hate you, Doll?”

 

She smiled, leaning in and pressing her lips against his, a chaste kiss. He wanted more, but something about the sweetness of the moment touched him. He’d been kissed with passion, with want, with desperation, but never with the sort of gentle kindness she had. He soaked it up, letting it seep into the scars he’d developed over the years.

 

Nora pulled away much too fast for Nick’s taste. He let her, releasing his grip on her.

 

“Oh! I got you something.” She hopped up and searched her pockets until she pulled out a metal case. “This is my ‘I’m sorry I had an orgasm on you’ gift.”

 

Nick laughed and took the item. A silver cigarette case with beautiful engraving. He flipped it over to read an inscription. “To Nick. I’d be lost without you. Love, Nora.”

 

He stared at it long enough, she started to fidget. “If you don’t like it, it’s okay.”  She reached for it.

 

He snatched it back, then wrapped an arm around her and drew her against his chest. He kissed the top of her head. “I love it. Thank you.”

 

Nora snuggled into his touch. “So, you’re saying you might be interested in something more with me?”

 

“There’s no might about that, Doll.”

 

“So, what do we do?”

 

“Why don’t I take you for a drink?”

 

She smiled and pressed another kiss to his lips. “Okay.”

 

#

 

The Dugout Inn was noisy, but Nora didn’t notice. No one stared, since Nick spent enough time in town, and they’d traveled together a while.

 

She’d walked in and expected everyone to turn, to look at them like she had ‘on a first date’ written across her forehead.

 

“I should have changed,” she said as they sat at a table near the side.

 

“What?”

 

She nodded at her outfit. “This is a date. I should have worn a dress, or at least cleaned up.”

 

The look he gave her, all heat, those damned yellow eyes nailing her. “Doll, you came against my leg in a closet. I think we’re past first date jitters, aren’t we?”

 

“Apparently not.”

 

“Well, you look stunning. You always do.”

 

Nora reached out with her foot and rubbed it against his calf.

 

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

 

“Why, Mr. Valentine, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“I don’t know why we let Valentine live in the city. He saves one or two people and everyone forgets he’s a freaking synth!” The comment came from a group of three men in the far corner, who snickered and pointed in Nick’s direction.

 

Nick moved his chair back an inch, putting space between Nora and he. She felt him withdraw, not just physically, but emotionally. Gone was the joking, the flirting. Whether he did it out of habit, or because he was afraid of embarrassing her, she wasn’t sure.

 

Nora wouldn’t have it, though. She wasn’t about to let them shame Nick, and she wasn’t going let him wallow.

 

#

 

Nick jerked his gaze away. He shouldn’t have come here. He didn’t want to cause Nora trouble, and he was nothing but trouble. Being with him in private was one thing, but he didn’t want her to suffer from rumors of them out together.

 

He wouldn’t want to wish that on anyone.

 

Nora stood and crossed the table. She slid into his lap, straddling him, before he could complain. His eyes went wide, his face probably a laughable mask of surprise. “What are you doing?”

 

She smiled. “Well, you were the one who mentioned we were a little past first date jitters.” She leaned in, placing her lips beside his ear. “I didn’t come just from rubbing against your leg. You know what sent me over? Your voice. When you speak, I can’t help it, I get so wet. Then you put your hands on my hips.” She paused, waiting.

 

Nick set his hands on her hips, slowly, questioning.

 

She smiled and continued. “The way you moved me, the way you knew exactly what I needed, it was amazing. Not just because I needed to get off, but because it was you.”

 

“People are looking at us.”

 

“So let them look.” Nora pressed her hands to the sides of his face, forcing his gaze to meet hers, to stay there, mirroring how he’d held her face in his office. “I’m not ashamed of you, Nick. Let everyone look. If anyone has a problem with it, let them. If they say anything that pisses me off, I’ll probably shoot them. The one thing I’d never do is hide you, or hide what I feel about you.”

 

The words sunk in, the truth behind them. How could he have thought she’d see him as an object? Why was he so afraid of this?

 

Instead of thinking about it anymore, Nick pulled Nora into the sort of kiss he wanted. Not slow, not sweet, but deep. He wanted her to know exactly how much he wanted her, how thankful he was to have her here, finally.

 

She didn’t pull away, didn’t try to make him slow. If anything, she pushed him further, slipping her tongue past his lips, tasting him. He put his hand behind her head, his other hand on her hips to pull her against him, against his hardness.

 

Nora gasped, looking down between them as if confused.

 

So, she hadn’t had a clue he might be equipped.

 

“Surprised?”

 

“I just didn’t think. . .”

 

“And you still wanted me? Even if I couldn’t ever?”

 

“Of course I wanted you. I want you anyway I can have you.”

 

He smiled and nipped at her bottom lip. “I’m a prototype. Between gen 2 and 3, so I have a few parts the other gen 2’s don’t. That’s one. Is that okay?”

 

She nodded. “Very okay.”

 

“Children, we do not screw in the common area,” Vadim yelled from the bar, though Nick heard the affection in his voice. Vadim was a good man, and Nora and Nick had helped him a time or two.

 

“Sorry, Vadim,” both Nick and Nora said together.

 

“Good, get them out of here. Freaks, both of ‘em,” muttered one of the men in the table.

 

Nick knew the men had made a mistake when her back tensed, and she started to stand.

 

#

 

Nora walked across the room to the table where the assholes were seated. She placed her charming smile on her lips as she leaned down. “Hey, boys, I wasn’t sure I quite heard your comments.”

 

“I came here to eat, not to watch a machine paw a woman. If you’re just horny, we could satisfy you better than some eunuch synth.” He leered as he spoke, staring at Nora like he’d already undressed her.

 

She swallowed down her anger, keeping the smile on her face. “I appreciate the offer, but that man over there satisfies me in ways you could never understand.”

 

“You bitch,” one hissed and still, knocking the chair back. He pulled his arm back to swing.

 

Nora dodged the hit with easy, knocking the man down. The other two jumped in, but Nora took seconds to dispatch them. They were large, but the men were cowards. They expected an easy fight, but they had no idea who they were dealing with.

 

“Vadim!” One called. “Do something. You can’t let her do that to us!”

 

Vadim leaned over the bar to survey the three men, bleeding and on the floor. “You should not insult her date. I once saw her kill a man who called her dog a mutt. Be thankful you are still breathing.”

 

They shut up, realizing they were getting no help.

 

“You left them alive,” Nick said, walking up behind her.

 

Nora turned around and smiled. “I know you hate when I kill people, even when they deserve it. I offer it instead of first date flowers.”

 

“You know just what I like,” he said, and took her arm. “Let’s head back.”

 

#

 

Nick slammed Nora’s back into the wall of Home Plate, his lips taking hers, owning her. The way she’d put down those men, all for him, the way she stood up for him, that she hadn’t tried to pretend they weren’t together, he couldn’t get it out of his head.

 

He loved her. There was no way around that.

 

Nora struggled with the buttons to his shirt, popping each one in the space between their bodies. Nick didn’t make it easy for her, too busy worshiping her lips to help.

 

He’d waited for this since he’d first seen her, since she’d strolled into that vault like she owned the place. They’d been headed here the whole time.

 

He slid his hands under her ass and carried her up the stairs before setting her on the bed, following her until he stretched out above her.

 

“You’re amazing,” he whispered to her lips, before he went to kiss her jawline. He grasped the zipper of her vault suit and drug it down, exposing inch after inch of beautiful skin. He never thought he’d see skin so flawless, so perfect.

 

Nora shrugged her arms from the suit, then helped him strip it from her hips. He had her in her underwear in no time. “Gorgeous,” he whispered, like a plea. What had he done to deserve this?

 

He reached behind her, unhooking her bra. “This okay?”

 

A smile slid across her face. “Yeah.”

 

He took the bra off, tossing it to join the pile of clothing near the foot of the bed. Her breasts were perfect. Perhaps not as perky as they’d been once, the signs of motherhood obvious, but he couldn’t think of anything more perfect. He cupped one with his good hand, brushing his thumb against the nipple, rewarded with a short gasp. “Don’t want the other getting jealous,” he said, grinning before leaning in and capturing the other breast with his lips. He didn’t want to risk hurting her with his metal hand, so he used his mouth; hardly a sacrifice.

 

Nora arched her back and dug her hands into his shoulders. He lavished attention on her breasts, his hand and his lips trading places, driving her higher with his touches.

 

Her breath turned into broken moans until he released her, scooting back. He hooked his thumbs into the sides of her underwear and waited.

 

Nora lifted her hips and allowed him to slid them off. Her thighs were pressed together, cheeks flushed.

 

Nick shook his head and chuckled. Silly woman was shy, nervous about him seeing her. What a funny thing, given who she was with. She was a knock-out, a total stunner. The fact that she’d be self-conscious about anything was one of those mysteries of women he’d never understand.

 

Nick slid his hands on his knees and pressed them apart. He didn’t use much force, so she could resist, could tell him no. She did not of that, though. She bit her lips and allowed him to spread her thighs.

 

Amazing. He couldn’t help it, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cleft.

 

#

 

Nora sighed at the gentle touch, at the way his lips pressed against her, so close to her clit but without enough pressure to satisfy. “Don’t tease me,” she begged.

 

That soft laugh filled the space, the one that warmed her. “Never.” He licked up her slit, pausing at the top to press his tongue against her clit.

 

Her body jerked at the touch, but he held her thighs to keep her still.

 

The feeling was amazing, but she wanted more. Nora pushed with her foot against his shoulder until he moved back. “Doll?”

 

“I want you. I don’t want you to just pleasure me, I want all of you.” It was important to her, after hearing his story, his pain. She didn’t want him to think for a moment he was some object to her, something to be used.

 

He frowned, hesitating.

 

Nora sat up on her knees and reached for the remaining buttons of his shirt. Without him kissing her, it went easier, though he still didn’t help. Hell, he didn’t look at her. His eyes had pinned to the back wall, avoiding her, acting as if he were pretending he were anywhere else.

 

She pulled the shirt off him, dropping it with her own clothes.

 

His body trembled, the tiniest shake that told her how on edge he was.

 

“Is this okay? We don’t have to.” Nora pressed a hand to his cheek until he met her gaze. “It’s really alright. I don’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give. If it never goes beyond a kiss, that’s okay. You have to be alright with this Nick, and if you aren’t, we stop.”

 

He turned his head and kissed her palm. “I want to. You’re just perfect, and I’m a broken-down synth with a head full of memories that ain’t mine. I want to be perfect for you, and I’m not, and it shames me.”

 

She smiled, the sort that said she thought he was an idiot. “I’m a 220 year old mom who shoots people for a living. I don’t think perfect is the word I’d use. I think you’re amazing, Nick. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find all this attractive.” She ran a finger along the seams of his chest plates, the edges that reminded her of muscles. “But it’s not just this, it’s you. All of you. And that’s what I want, I want you exactly like you are.”

 

He stood, and for a moment Nora waited for him to walk away. She thought he’d put on his shirt, his jacket, and leave, decide this whole thing had been a mistake.

 

Instead, his fingers went to the button of his pants. He undid it, then pushed them off.

 

He wore nothing beneath, and Nora wasn’t surprised. Underwear weren’t the sort of thing he’d bother himself with.

 

He looked as she’d imagined he would, everything reminiscent of human but not quiet. His cock was hard, average length but thick, the same white color as his skin, the same sculpting that his body had to make it appear almost human.

 

Her tongue traced her lips as she stared, and when his yellow gaze saw the movement, he groaned.

 

“I don’t think I can wait anymore,” he said.

 

“Then don’t. But, Nick, take off the hat.” She giggled as she pointed at the only item he still wore, his fedora.

 

He hesitated. “It’s the last thing that makes me look human. Without it, I look like all the other synths.”

 

She stood, pressed her lips to his, and took off the hat. “Not to me, you don’t.”

 

Nick grabbed her ass, hoisting her legs up and around his waist. It brought her core against his hardness, and he took advantage of the position, pulling her up and down, driving her crazy. “Please, Nick, just fuck me already.”

 

“Anything my dame wants,” he said, laying her back on the bed.

 

Nick took one of her legs and drew it up to give him room. He pressed the tip of his cock to her soaked entrance. He watched her face as he sunk in, memorizing the way she moaned, the way she bit her bottom lip.

 

He slid in, going slow. It had been a while since she’d done this, and he didn’t want to risk hurting her. Once he was fully seated, he rested his head against her hers and waited for her to adjust.

 

Beneath him, Nora moved, her hips tilting, seeking. He took the cue, slid out almost all the way, before pressing back in. She reached forward, grabbing his lower back, digging her nails in. He shuddered and shoved in hard from surprise.

 

Nora gasped. “Again.”

 

He laughed, drawing her into another deep kiss, before repeating the action. He sped his thrusts, gripping her thigh still to keep her still. The feeling was amazing, her warm heat around him, the way she responded to him.

 

She didn’t shy away from his defects, didn’t avoid the jagged holes in his skin, or his metal hand. She also didn’t focus on them in a way that made him feel like an object. She acted as if they were part of him, not the whole of him, and she liked all of him.

 

He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt this content since waking up in this metal body, since realizing his life was a lie.

 

“Nick,” she gasped.

 

He slowed. “Yeah?”

 

“I love you,” she said, the words breathy but unmistakable. He stopped, still hard inside her, but not moving.

 

“What?”

 

“Too soon? I’m sorry, you don’t have to say it back to me, but I wanted you to know. I needed to say it. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin anything. . .” her words dissolved into a mess.

 

“Shut up, Doll. I love you too,” he said and slid an arm behind her back, pulling her closer to him and kissing her. His hips snapped forward, his rhythm shot. He’d gone from careful to mindless, to a desire to get rid of anything between them.

 

Nora clung to him, returning his kiss, trading moans between them. He felt his climax coming, or at least what they’d programmed him with. It was a shabby excuse compared to what he remember, but it still was worth it. He pressed into her as deep as he could before his body shuddered.

 

“I’ve been waiting a long time to hear that,” Nick said as he laid down, pulling her against his chest.

 

Nora smiled, cuddling up to him. “Me too.”

 

Nick pressed a kiss to her head, finally at home. He’d spent years building a home, trying to find some piece of the wasteland to call his.

 

Who’d have thought he’d find it inside a vault dweller?

 

 

 


	5. Nora/Deacon- Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nora has noticed the man who keeps following her, and decides to put on a show for him. Meanwhile, Deacon isn't sure how to handle the woman he's shadowing, because she refuses to play by the rules he's used to.

The damned guard was watching her again, and again he thought she didn't recognize him. The sunglasses he used to obscure his eyes did nothing to hide his identity. Nora had recognized him the second he'd entered Diamond City. The fool had followed her for weeks, showing up everywhere. Diamond Hill, Goodneighbor, hell he'd been in one of her settlements. Each time he wore whatever clothing would allow him to blend in, and those stupid glasses, and pretended like she had no idea who he was.

 

It was the intensity in his gaze, the way he watched her even as he tried to seem disinterested. That no one else recognized him baffled her. Did no one else pay attention? Or had he captured Nora’s attention?

 

If he'd wanted to kill her, he'd have done it already. It didn't take a lot to put a bullet in her brain, and with all the times he'd been close, he could have stuck a blade between her ribs if that were his goal. But he hadn't, he'd just watched. Except the one time a feral had gotten the jump on her, and a bullet tore through it from God only knew where. Even without seeing him, she'd known it was him.

 

He was handsome, she had to admit. He wore a stupid black wig, and today he'd put on the silly catchers’ gear of the local guards. She'd be lying if she didn't say she'd had a few dreams which were less than puritanical in nature. Not that she'd had much chance to indulge in any of that, not since waking up. Who had time for dalliances when any person might slit your throat during the act.

 

But then, that wasn't a danger with her guardian, was it?

 

Nora tapped her nails against the table as she considered it. If he were going to follow her, why not give him a show? If he wanted to watch, she'd give him something to watch.

 

Across the way she spotted one of the residents, a good enough looking man, in his mid-twenties, who seemed clean, sober, and not particularly stabby.

 

Her standards had gone down considerably since waking up.

 

"Hey, beautiful," he all but purred when he caught her staring.

 

She smiled and walked over to him, leaned in and whispered. "If you want to have some fun, follow me."

 

#

 

Deacon tried to appear unaffected as he watched Nora have the man follow her. It didn't take an expert to figure out what the two were headed for.

 

What was she thinking? Picking up strangers for one night stands was stupid, and a small part of him found himself jealous over it.

 

He'd followed her for nearly a month, her own personal shadow. He'd rarely gotten involved, only when the danger deemed the risk of his cover being blown worth it. He'd shot a feral, taken out a few raiders, nothing big. Mostly he'd watched.

 

Watched her mow down enemies as if they were nothing, watch her spread across the commonwealth like a plague. Sure, she helped people, but she did it with the sort of justice that made him nervous. She ran into every situation as if there were no other option than her complete victory.

 

She'd turned a few of his hairs grey already.

 

And now she'd found some random hook up. He followed the couple around the corner, staying back and out of the lights. They stopped near the back of Diamond City, behind an old bus.

 

"What's your name?" The man asked.

 

"Does that really matter?"

 

"Guess not. Mine is. . ."

 

"Don't care. I'm going to call you Guardian."

 

"Who's Guardian?"

 

"The man I’m going to pretend you are."

 

Deacon frowned. He'd followed her for weeks and she'd not mentioned anyone by that name. The desire to find him and kill him surprised Deacon. He'd never been jealous, and there was nothing between the two of them to create jealousy. 

 

The man looked uncomfortable, but when she dropped to her knees before him, his reservations vanished.

 

Deacon swallowed hard, his throat tight.

 

 Shit, should he leave? No, he didn't know the man. Dez would be pissed to find out he'd kept her alive for so long only to allow a random hook up to kill her. What a boring end to what could be such an interesting story.

 

He took his pistol from its holster and flipped off the safety, just in case.

 

Nora undid the man's pants with a basic efficiency that reeked of disinterest. She pulled his already hard cock out and licked from the base to the tip.

 

The man dropped his head back, sliding his hand into her hair. Nora moved her hands to his thighs to balance, while she slid him deep into her mouth.

 

"Oh, fuck, girl. Your mouth is amazing." The man muttered, becoming less coherent as time went on. Nora worked him like an expert, taking him so deep Deacon couldn't believe she didn't gag.

 

He imagined taking her like that himself, seating himself so deep down her throat that she wouldn't be able to breathe, she couldn't do anything but taste him, please him.

 

The man tightened his grip in her hair and yanked her forward until her nose pressed into his public hair. Deacon pulled the gun up, ready to blow the man's brains out if he held her there for more than a moment.

 

Luckily, he didn't. He shuddered, his release obvious, before he let her go and sagged backward.

 

Nora wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood, turning toward Deacon.

 

Deacon moved around the corner, taking his old position again.

 

Nora came around and paused next to him. She'd talk to him, on occasion, though she talked to enough people he chalked it up to friendliness. There was no mistaking what she said next for simple friendliness, though,

 

"Goodnight, Guardian."

 

#

 

Nora sighed as she laid back in her bed in Home Plate. She'd had fun, no doubt about that. Sure, she hadn't let him touch her, and she hadn't cum, but the feeling of Guardian's eyes on her the whole time had turned her on. The catch in his breath when she'd spoken, when he'd sunk the pieces together, she'd savored it.

 

She had the feeling he wasn't a man to be surprised often.

 

So the way he’d tensed, the way his body had stood, rigid, while she walked past him, she’d loved it.

 

What would it feel like to have him? To touch him?

 

He’d moved around her like a shadow, like mist, close enough to catch glimpses of but never real enough, or present enough, to touch. Was that why she wanted him? Because she couldn’t have him?

 

Her life was full of things she couldn’t have, and adding him to the list made sense.

 

Nora slid her hand down her stomach, needing relief. Her encounter hadn’t satisfied her, not like she’d needed. It had only drove her high, made her want more, need more. She didn’t think of the man she’d pleasured, she thought of the man who had watched her.

 

Her fingers slid beneath the band of her panties, her thighs falling apart.

 

“You need better locks on your door,” came a voice from the darkness.

 

Nora jerked back and went for her gun on the side table, only to find it missing.

 

“You also should keep your gun closer. I’d suggest under your pillow.” The face that went with the voice came into sight.

 

“Guardian,” she said and relaxed.

 

“Not afraid of me? I’m a strange man in your bedroom; who knows what I could do.”

 

“You’ve followed me for weeks. If you wanted to do anything, you’d have done it already. What are you doing here?”

 

“You seemed to want my attention. You put on quite the show.”

 

“This coming from a man always in costume?”

 

He smiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But, please, don’t stop on my account.” He nodded toward her crotch.

 

“You really think I’d do that with you here?”

 

“I’m going to bet you were already thinking about me, so why not show me?”

 

“Come over and help me.”

 

He shook his head, sitting back in the chair. “That isn’t how this works, Nora. I’ll stay over here.”

 

“And just watch me?”

 

“I like watching, and I think you like me watching.”

 

Nora grinned, the idea exciting her. Sure, him watching her earlier had turned her on, but him in the room?

 

She hooked her fingers into her panties and drug them down her legs, revealing inch after inch of skin. She’d never been one to be shy, and with how he sat in the shadow, her gaze piercing even through the stupid sunglasses, she couldn’t muster an ounce of embarrassment.

 

#

 

Deacon couldn’t believe he was watching Nora, so close he could have reached out and touched her. Her skin was pale, flawless, mouthwatering. He wanted to leap over the distance and fall on her, take her with every hard inch he had, but he didn’t.

 

He shouldn’t even be here. Even if she’d spotted him, if she knew he’d followed her, he didn’t need to screw things up even more.

 

However, after she’d passed him by, after he’d realized the whole thing had been for his benefit, he couldn’t not come see her. He’d planned to just sneak in, to watch her. He hadn’t expected to find her with her hand in her panties. There had been no way to leave after that.

 

“Slow,” he said, voice rough.

 

Nora tossed the panties to the side and leg her thighs fall apart, exposing him to her. She was wet, the light catching on her folds, glistening. He ran his tongue over his lips before he could stop himself.

 

“Keep going.”

 

Nora followed the direction, sliding her hand down her stomach, over her hip, until her fingers slid along her slit. She let out a breathy moan, her back arching at the contact. She gathered moisture on her fingers before sliding them to the top, to her clit, and rubbed gentle circles around it.

 

“You could be over here, you know,” she gasped out.

 

“Don’t stop. I want to see you cum. You didn’t when that man was fucking your mouth. What were you thinking about then?”

 

“You.” The admittance seemed to drive her higher, her touches more forceful. “I was wishing it was you, that you were in my mouth, down my throat.”

 

“If it had been, I wouldn’t have let you off so easily, so quick. You’d have to work a lot longer than that.”

 

She whimpered two fingers now rubbing her clit, her hips thrusting toward something that wasn’t there.

 

“And I can promise you something else, too.”

 

“What?”

 

He moved to the head of the bed, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “I wouldn’t have let you go until I forced you to come over and over, until you were begging me to stop.”

 

#

 

Every muscle in Nora’s body tensed at the words, the promise, the absolute certainty in them. Her back arched off the bed, her lungs burning as she came. She laid back on the bed and cracked her eyelids open, looking for Guardian, to return the favor.

 

The room was empty. He was gone.


	6. Nora/Deacon - Not Charming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When exploring HalluciGen, Nora and Deacon are exposed to a chem that causes Nora to become aggressive. Deacon finds another way to distract her, however.

Deacon had never cared for chems. He lived by his ability to lie, to manipulate others, and anything that clouded his ability to do so he avoided.

 

So being locked in a lab with chems being pumped in was hardly on his to do list for the day.

 

And judging by the glazing of Nora’s eyes, the chems were hitting her hard.

 

Not that it surprised him. They’d learned not to let her take chems early on, after the offer of some mentats from Hancock had led to Nora sobbing on the ground about how their whole world was nothing but a spec of dirt on a super mutants ass crack. Nora didn’t handle her chems well, and she made for an angry drunk.

 

So while Deacon’s head had fuzzed a bit, his resistance to the chems meant the spray didn’t do much for him.

 

“Hey there, Fixer. How you feeling?”

 

Nora paced, though her eyes never came off him. The way she watched him unnerved him. What the hell was in that mist?

 

Psycho, jet, maybe buffout? It was a nasty mix, if he had to guess.

 

“You want to settle down a bit? We can practice calm breathing together.”

 

Nora lifted her lip, looking so damn much like a snarl he frowned. This wasn’t good. The only benefit he could see was that she hadn’t gone for her weapon.

 

Almost like she had no idea she had one.

 

Instead, Nora charged. He sidestepped and shoved her to the left, keeping her off balance. “See, this is why we wouldn’t let you go by Charmer.”

 

She shook her head, like his voice jogged something but she didn’t like it.

 

She leapt at him again, and again he outmaneuvered her. The third time, he grabbed her and shoved her against the wall, taking the time to remove her weapons. She seemed to have forgotten about them, or perhaps whatever the chems had done to her had regressed her so much, she had no idea what they did.

 

She was a mess of primal anger, nothing but the desire to fight, to kill. She flashed her teeth, curled her hands like she wanted to tear him apart

 

This was going to get ugly if they couldn’t get her back soon, and Nora would never forgive herself if she hurt him. And she’d never forgive him if he hurt her.

 

The woman held a nasty grudge.

 

And didn’t that effect Deacon in a way he hated to admit? He’d always had a thing for women who took charge, and wasn’t she a sight? All driven by instinct, panting.

 

She sniffed, eyes locked on him.

 

Her eyes narrowed, changed, something peeking out from the fury.

 

Lust.

 

Well, it seemed she was driven by at least two primal drives.

 

Deacon struggled with the options. Would she be angrier to find out she’d hurt him, or that she’d molested him? Either way, he was in trouble, but the latter sounded like more fun.

 

Deacon pulled his white shirt up and over his head. Nora’s eyes locked on his chest, her tongue darting out.

 

“Come on, sweetheart. Isn’t this more interesting than killing me?”

 

She huffed, and he chuckled at the sound. She sounded like dogmeat when he wanted treats. Her pacing slowed until she stopped moving.

 

“That’s what I thought.” Deacon reached for the button of his jeans, her gaze following the movements. “We can burn off some of that energy, you know. Maybe some laps around the block? Some calisthenics?”

 

She growled.

 

“No?” Deacon pulled the zipper down on his pants before sliding them off, leaving him in nothing but his glasses.

 

Yeah, so being naked in front of a high, mostly feral woman might not have ranked near the top of a list of smart choices. Still, the way her tongue wet her lips, her panting, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

 

“Come on.” Deacon beckoned her forward, his arms out by his sides.

 

Nora charged, again. Deacon grabbed her hips and turned her, slamming her back against the wall. He tried to kiss her, but she sunk her teeth into his lip.

 

“See, you and your teeth aren’t trustworthy.”

 

Her hands dug into his shoulders, the nails sinking into the skin. He’d have a hell of a set of marks tomorrow and that was fucking fine with him. Her thighs tightened around his waist, grinding against him.

 

“Alright, fine, maybe we could call you Charmer.”

 

Nora shoved against the wall, sending them toppling down, Deacon on his back and her on top. She drug her nails down his chest, leaving deep red scratches in their wake. He groaned, arching into the pain.

 

She fumbled with her own pants, the button snapping off. Deacon flipped her onto her back and yanked on her pants until they came off, then did the same with her panties. She clawed at his arms, trying to draw him back to her.

 

Fuck, he’d have cuts all over him when she was done.

 

Deacon crawled back over her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, angling her body against his, struggling for contact.

 

He thrust forward, rubbing his cock against her slit, sliding against her wetness. She twisted, trying to get him inside of her.

 

“Relax.” He licked her lips, and she snapped her teeth at him. “No. Bad Nora. No teeth.”

 

She bit down on a spot on his chest, and he moaned. “Okay, fine. Let’s amend that. Biting is okay.”

 

Nora twisted, rolling Deacon back over and straddling him. She outmaneuvered him, not because he let her but because she was just as good as him. Fuck, he loved it. He loved that she could keep up with him, that she could outdo him.

 

So many times in his past he’d fallen into bed with soft women, with women who needed his help, who needed his protection. The fact that she could take him, blow for blow, hell it excited him.

 

He leaned up to kiss her, but she slammed him back down. Her hand wrapped around his cock, a grip too tight to be comfortable.

 

She sunk down onto his length, dropping her head back and moaning. Her cunt tightened around him, her hands flat on his chest, holding him still as she started to ride.

 

“Fuck, sweetheart. That feels amazing.”

 

She didn’t react to his words, just moved faster, holding him down and using him.

 

Deacon tried to reach up and touch her, but she snapped at him. “Fine. Hands to myself, I get it.”

 

Nora arched her back, taking him deep, her muscles straining as she worked. Fucking amazing. Sweat glistened on her skin, and her breathing sped until she panted.

 

Her hands slammed him down again, and she leaned in and bit hard on his shoulder, hard enough he gasped. Wetness trickled along the bite. Her cunt seized down on him, and he came right along with her.

 

Being pinned, her teeth buried in his skin, he’d never thought it would get to him like this, but damned he enjoyed her using him.

 

She growled, her hips still moving as he softened. After another minute, he slid out of her and she nuzzled against his chest, a content beast.

 

Deacon ran his fingers through her hair, laughing when she snapped at them again.

 

She was going to kill him when she sobered up, but fuck, it was worth it.


	7. Nora/Hancock - Freaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Hancock handles Nora a little too rough during a fight, Nora finds herself wanting him and everything he can dish out. Hancock realizes what she wants and gives it to her, because, well, He's Hancock.

The first time it happened, they were clearing the basement of an abandoned house.

 

Nora’s back slammed into the wall, Hancock gripping her arm hard enough she’d bruise. He brought his shotgun to his shoulder and unloaded a round into the feral that had gone after Nora.

 

She should have been terrified. Hancock had thrown her around like a doll, using an amount of strength that boggled her mind. Fear sat at the bottom of her list of feelings, however. Up near the top was lust.

 

A second feral leapt at Hancock, and he brought the butt of his shotgun into its face. His expression twisted into a snarl, and damned if he didn’t match the ferals they fought.

 

He killed a third before they were alone, Nora still pressed against the wall, panting, drenched. She’d never experienced a rush like this. She and Hancock weren’t like that, but fuck, she wanted to be.

 

“Sorry, sister,” he rasped. He tilted her head, checking her eyes. “Didn’t mean to manhandle you quite so hard. You hit your head?”

 

Nora shook her head, not trusting her voice. Hancock read her too well, he’d hear how bad she wanted him, and she wasn’t anywhere close to braving that.

 

“You sure?” His black eyes gave nothing away as he scanned her.

 

Nora swallowed hard, a loud gulp that had him cocking his eyebrow up. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

 

That evening, they sat by the fire. Nora slid her jacket off and tossed it to the ground behind her

 

A low whistle slid from his ruined lips. “Those are some nasty bruises, sunshine. Guess I grabbed you a bit harder than I meant to.”

 

Nora slid her hand around the bruises, hiding them. She refused to look at him. “It’s fine.”

 

“Really? You’ve been acting weird since it happened. Afraid of me now?” John flexed his hands, staring down at ‘em. “Can’t say I’d blame you. Becoming a ghoul has a few downsides, you know, besides bigotry, missing body parts, and a mild skin condition. Some extra strength is one of ‘em. But, I never meant to hurt ya. I’d never hurt ya on purpose.”

 

“I know that. I trust you.”

 

He sighed and sat back, putting extra space between them. “Right.”

 

#

 

A week later, they laid on a mattress together. They slept in the same bed often, since there weren’t many options. What used to be a basic issue of survival had become less comfortable, though. Having him so close, her body decided exactly what it wanted.

 

Which was the ghoul beside her.

 

No matter how many times she told herself they weren’t like that, she would drift back to fantasies. He’d use that strength against her, holding her down, giving her exactly what she wanted. Nora touched the still healing bruises on her arm and whimpered.

 

“You know, my damned strength has fucked me before. A year after turning ghoul I ran into an old girlfriend. Things got heavy, but I hadn’t figured out how to deal with the new strength. I ended up hurting her. Took me a while to control it, to leash it. The thing is, it ain’t easy, takes a lot to remember, can’t let myself slip up.” He sighed, the smell of grape mentats filling the air. “I slipped up with you, and I’m sorry.”

 

She hated him thinking it was him, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit the truth.

 

Hell, what was the truth?

 

Why had those bruises caused that reaction? Why couldn’t she get the picture of him out of her head? Nate had always been gentle, sweet. John was anything but, and yet she wanted nothing more than him.

 

“Have you ever thought about finding someone who likes that? Someone who you don’t have to worry about it with?” Her words surprised her.

 

“Yeah, sure. Thing is, that isn’t the sort of thing you go around asking. Not many first dates go beyond ‘how do you feel about a little pain?’” He rolled onto his back, his black eyes locked on the ceiling. “Don’t worry about it, Sunshine. I just wanted you to understand I didn’t mean it. I’ll be more careful.”

 

She wished he wouldn’t.

 

#

 

A week later, the two found themselves on the top floor of a Goodneighbor warehouse. John had hired himself, funny enough, to clear ‘em out. Not that a bunch of triggermen were all that difficult. They’d taken out each one, tearing through the floors.

 

Nora had traveled with a few different people, but no one matched Hancock for sheer viciousness. He didn’t carry a weapon with much range, picking people off from a distance. He liked to get in close, finishing off with his knife what wouldn’t die from his shotgun.

 

Shots rang out from the office around the corner. “You’re never gonna get me!”

 

 “Not a fan of political strife, brother,” Hancock yelled.

 

“Shit! Hancock, that you? Doing your own dirty work now?”

 

“Funny story, I actually hired myself to do this job. Can’t wait to pay me for all my hard work.”

 

A click, then a grenade struck the far wall and bounced toward them.

 

“Fuck.” Hancock grabbed Nora and tossed them both to the other side of the couch. Her back hit the floor and her wrist ached from his grip. He covered her with his body, tugging her face into his neck to shield her.

 

The explosion rained debris on them both. “Oh, I’m feral now,” Hancock growled, pulling out his knife and charging around the corner. A scream and then silence.

 

His face appeared above her. He touched her lip and came back with blood. She must have bitten it. “I keep knocking you around, don’t I?”

 

Nora reached up and wrapped her hands behind his head, his hat knocked to the floor. She yanked him down against her lips, not caring about the blood, about the sting of her injured wrist, nothing but feeling him against her.

 

He didn’t return the kiss, his hands braced on the ground beside her head to keep him off her. She didn’t care, sliding her tongue against his lips, begging him to let her in.

 

He groaned, tasting like grapes and whiskey, and Nora pressed past his ruined lips, into the heat of his mouth.

 

He pulled away then, staring down at her, having lost that cocky edge he wore like armor. “Sunshine?”

 

The Nora woke the fuck up and realized what she was doing. She jerked away from him, scrambling from beneath him even though he didn’t help much. He caught her wrist and squeezed, too tight to be an accident. Nora couldn’t have even hoped to keep in the moan it elicited.

 

He let her go, staring at her like he’d figured something out.

 

Nora ran down the stairs and out of the warehouse.

 

#

 

Nora avoided him for two days. It wasn’t easy, being in his town. He’d even come knocking on her hotel room once, but she’d hid like a coward until he’d left.

 

What had she been thinking? They had a good thing going; he was her best friend. Why did she have to ruin it like that?

 

He hadn’t even kissed her back.

 

She wanted to run, to leave town without him knowing. She could hop the fence, avoid the gate entirely, and be gone before he knew what happened.

 

What a coward.

 

Nora wrote a note and left it with Clair at the front desk. A simple goodbye, a thank you for all he’d done. She couldn’t face him, though. It wasn’t just him, either. What she’d wanted, it scared her. And the longer she’d spent with him after realizing what she wanted, the harder it was to pretend they were nothing but friends.

 

Nora slid into the door of the warehouse they’d cleared. In the back on the third floor, she knew a window overlooked the freeway. A good jump and she’d be out of Goodneighbor.

 

The ground seemed miles away when she checked the window, but the jump was only a few feet. She backed up, when a raspy voice stilled her.

 

“Never figured you for a coward.” Hancock leaned against the wall, a cigarette clasped between his teeth.

 

“I left a note with Clair.”

 

“A fucking note? That’s all I get? You hop the wall and I get a few scribbled words as goodbye? Don’t you think I deserve a little more than that?”

 

Nora nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “Yeah, you do. I just couldn’t face you.”

 

“We’ve done a lot together, you and I. We’ve killed Deathclaws, raiders, saved people, and you were too fucking scared to just talk to me?”

 

“Scared? Try completely terrified. Of you, of me, of what I want. Everything made sense until you grabbed my arm, and then it was like this whole foundation was gone. But, at least you didn’t know. You had no idea what I thought about, what I dreamed about. Then I lost it and kissed you, and that damned look in your eyes as you figured out how fucked up I am. I couldn’t face you after that.” Nora sighed, breath rushing from her lungs like she’d collapse. “There’s something wrong with me.”

 

A soft chuckle came from the other side of the room before he came over and shoved her against the wall, hard enough she gasped. “Then there’s something wrong with me, too.” He took her mouth in a kiss, like the one she’d wanted when he’d been on top of her. His hand grabbed one of her thighs and pulled it up, angling her core so it pressed against him. His fingers dug into her leg, and she broke the kiss, head falling against the wall as she gasped.

 

“Oh, I like that sound, sunshine. You got any idea how long I’ve wanted this from you? About from the minute you walked your pretty ass into my town and shot Finn in his fucking face.”

 

“You never-“

 

“-never said shit? Of course not. I already told you, I’ve got some issues hurting women in the past. Wasn’t about to put you through that shit.” He pressed his mouth to her shoulder before biting down. “Imagine my shock to find out it’s something you actually want. Should have told me sooner, we could have been doing this from the start.”

 

Nora tried to force her brain to work as he started to rock his hips, his hard cock pressing against her even through their clothing. “I didn’t know. I never- I thought it was-“

 

“Wrong? Fuck right and fuck wrong. You want what you want, nothing more about it than that. Not like you’re hurting anyone.” His lips cocked up into a smirk. “That’ll be my job, yeah?”

 

He released her and pulled the knife from his belt. Her eyes widened and she pulled back.

 

“I ain’t going to carve you up, sister. Just want you out of all this and I’m not about to take my time. I’ll buy you something new, promise.” He slid the blade beneath the edge of her jeans, and yanked. It only took him a moment to strip her down to nothing. “Fuck, forget buying you anything new. I’m gonna keep you exactly like this all the time.”

 

Nora wanted to respond with something witty, something snarky, but nothing came to mind as he took hold of her arm in a tight grip and threw her toward the mattress on the floor.

 

“On all four,” he growled.

 

Nora followed the direction, too turned on to be embarrassed, too excited to be afraid. His clothing joined the scraps of hers before the mattress dipped beneath his weight. “What a sight. You got any idea how many nights I jerked off thinking about you just like this?” His fingers brushed against her wet slit and she whimpered, hands curling against the floor. “Already ready for me, huh? Seems like you’ve been thinking about this, too. Don’t want to rush it, though. Plan on playing with you a bit, first.”

 

Before she could think about what he meant, his open palm struck her ass. Nora’s gasp devolved into a moan, but he gave her no time to recover before he repeated the action on her other ass cheek. “Oh, God.”

 

“John’s fine, sweetheart.” He rubbed his hand over the area, the rough edges of his burns adding an ache to the skin. “You like this?” His voice caught.

 

It took her a moment. Nervousness. He was nervous. His story hit her again. He was afraid he’d be too much for her, that all of this would be taken away because of his strength, because of what he was. “More,” she begged.

 

He growled, his hands tightened before letting go and striking her again.

 

And fuck, yes, she wanted more. She wanted him at his worst, she wanted to take everything he had to give. “Fuck me, please,” she pleaded, her voice a broken, desperate demand.

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yes. Please, John. I need you.”

 

He got onto his knees behind her and pressed a kiss to her back. He nestled the head of his cock against her and placed a hand on her hip. He pushed, and she whimpered.

 

Fuck, it had been a long time. Her body didn’t want to let him in, tightening, nervous.

 

“Fuck, sunshine, you’re tight. Relax for me, okay?” He pushed again, the pressure causing Nora to squirm, but he only managed half an inch, if that. “How long has it been for you?”

 

“Around two hundred years.”

 

He stopped moving then. “You mean you haven’t with anyone since your husband? Since before the war?”

 

Nora nodded.

 

“Fuck. You’re sure you want me? You’ve waiting an awful long time to give it up to something like me.”

 

“Yes, I’m sure. Would you fuck me already?”

 

He didn’t move right away, like he was thinking about it. Nora knew he wore confidence well, but it was a cover. He didn’t like himself nearly as much as he pretended.

 

“Alright,” he said, voice low. “Let’s try this.”

 

Nora didn’t have time to wonder before his hand slapped the outside of her ass, near her thigh, far harder than the other times. She gasped, her body tensing from the strike. However, just as it had tensed, after a second she relaxed and he took the opportunity to shove all the way in.

 

It burned as he stretched her, but fuck, nothing had felt better. Nora spread her knees apart, trying to let herself get accustomed to his size, which if he had to admit was a lot larger than she’d dealt with before. No wonder they’d had trouble.

 

“There we go.” He chuckled, both hands moving to her hips to hold her still.

 

After a moment, when her breathing had evening out, he slid himself out a little then pushed back in, slow, controlled.

 

But she didn’t want slow and controlled. She wanted to prove to them both she could take him, that he didn’t have to hold back with her.

 

“Harder.”

 

“Let’s ease into this, okay? You’re still tight, like a fucking vice. I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

Nora tried to move but his grip held her still. She shuddered at the strength in his arms. “Please, John. I want everything you can give me. I need it.”

 

“You tell me to stop if it’s too much. I’ve hurt women before and I don’t want that with you. Don’t think I could stand you looking at me like they did.”

 

Nora twisted her neck to see him over her shoulder. “When you shoved me against that wall, do you have any idea how wet you got me? There we were, surrounded by ferals, and all I wanted was for you to grab me and fuck me against that wall. Come on, John, give me what I wanted.”

 

He smiled and nodded. “Alright, sister. Hang on.” He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back into her.

 

It hurt, but twisted into something she loved. Her head hung down, soaking in the way he took her over, the way nothing was left but him. He slammed into her, over and over, hands tight around her hips, holding her still so he could take her.

 

He released one hand and grabbed her shoulder, moving her up so she knelt in front of him, but he never stopped thrusting into her. He bit down on her other shoulder, the hand from her shoulder cupping her breast. “Fuck, you feel amazing. Better than anything I’d imagined. I spent so many nights with my hand wrapped around my dick, you asleep a few feet away, thinking about how much I wanted to fuck you. What a piss poor substitute for this, but I never thought you’d let me have you.” He captured her nipple between his fingers and squeezed, not too tight. “Never thought you’d let a monster like me fuck you, never thought you’d want what I wanted to give you.” He cranked his fingers down, and Nora’s back arched into the touch, a broken cry as she came, her cunt tightening around him so much he had to stop moving for a moment.

 

As soon as her body relaxed he growled, a sound so fucking close to a feral she shuddered at the man behind her. He pushed her shoulders back down, all the way until her face pressed against the mattress, and he resumed his pace, more punishing than before.

 

He didn’t last long before he came, his hands so tight on her hips she whimpered at the grip. He released her and laid down beside her, not touching her, like he wasn’t sure she’d want him too.

 

They said nothing as they fell asleep.

 

#

 

Nora woke to Hancock running his fingers over her shoulder.

 

The bite mark.

 

“You feeling okay?” His voice was tight, guarded.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I’ve never done that before, not held back, used all my strength.”

 

Nora reached up and grabbed his hand. “You didn’t hurt me. I wanted it, I liked it.”

 

He frowned, like he didn’t believe her, didn’t trust her. “You need some med-x?”

 

Nora sighed and pulled on his arm until he slid over her. “I’m fine, I promise.” She slid her legs around his waist. He groaned as his cock bumped against her entrance. Trust him to always be ready.

 

“You’ve got to be sore.”

 

“So we’ll go slow this morning. Please?”

 

He dropped his forehead against hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“You won’t, not ever. Last night I proved to us both that I can handle whatever you can dish out. You can’t break me, can’t scare me off. So, come on, John, show me what else you can do.”

 

He laughed, breath spilling out against her lips, before he slid into her. He didn’t have the trouble he’d had the night before, but she did ache, a soft moan escaping.

 

“You alright there?”

 

She nodded and stole a kiss. “Just go slow.”

 

He wrapped an arm around her waist to draw her up closer to him, reminding her of just how strong he was. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

 

She nipped at his bottom lip and smiled. “Good, because you’re going to have a hell of a time trying to get rid of me.”


	8. Nate/Danse - Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate wants Danse, and Danse wants to pretend there is nothing more than professional camaraderie between them. Since Nate can't have what he wants, at least not that night, he settles for flustering the poor Paladin. 
> 
> This is a chapter trying out the Nate/Danse relationship from my Hancock/Haylen story: Letting Go. I'm deciding if I want to write a full story for them or not.

Nate sat, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Nights made him uneasy, and the long days of walking wore his legs out. He’d gotten stronger, grown in stamina, but none of that helped at night. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

 

“Of course not.” Danse poked a stick at the fire, purposely not staring at the man across from him. He’d spent a lot of time doing just that, not looking at him. Nate wasn’t sure he’d ever managed any extended eye contact, which after a week together was a damned impressive skill.

 

“You sure? Because you seem on edge around me.”

 

“I am a Brotherhood Solider. I do not frighten easily, especially from Initiates under my command.”

 

“I didn’t say frightened; I said uncomfortable. Freudian slip?”

 

Danse frowned. “What is a Freudian slip?”

 

Nate grinned, cocking up an eyebrow. “It’s when you accidently say something true that isn’t what you meant to say. So, if I meant to say ‘I like your eyes,’ but accidently say ‘I like your ass,’” that’s one. Or, if I mean to say ‘I’d like to go check out that market over there,’ but instead, I say ‘I want to get on my knees and suck your cock until you’re begging me to fuck you,’ well, oops. Freudian slip.”

 

Danse sputtered, words leaving his mouth in the wrong order as if he couldn’t make sense of them. “Initiate- that- no- we.” He took a deep breath before standing. “That is inappropriate banter. You will refrain from any future comments of that nature.”

 

“I will? But I like the flush on your cheeks when I do it. You have any idea how pretty you look like that? So damned tempting.” And the Paladin did look good. Nate had fallen for people of all types over the years. Strong ones, soft ones, confident, shy, men, women. He’d loved straight shooters and liars and criminals. Danse drew him like none of the others, even Nora. It was in his denials, in the way he had a code of honor and clutched it in a death grip. He held himself to a standard, lived up to his own expectations, no matter what the cost. That sort of control excited Nate, but not as much as the idea of taking it apart, of leaving him writhing and desperate and needy.

 

And Nate wouldn’t have bothered if it wasn’t clear Danse wanted it as much as he did.

 

Well, maybe not as much. Nate wanted him pretty fucking bad. It had dug its claws into him, that want, until he dreamed about it every night, until he fantasized about it every day. From the moment he’d seen Danse, having drawn a line in the sand, protecting Haylen and Rhys against wave after wave of ferals, he’d needed him.

 

Still, it was in the tension of the man’s shoulders, the extremes he went for professional detachment, and the many occasions he’d subtly adjust his jumpsuit. Danse needed it, he just enjoyed playing hard to get because he didn’t want to need it. He wanted to be above it, to be better than his base needs, but he was, at the end of the day, a human with very human wants.

 

That called to him because, fuck, Nate had no control. He never had. He smiled, and he joked, and he fucked whatever he wanted, and he did it all to hide the monster beneath, the one that tore apart anything it wanted to. People caught a glimpse of that and they never looked at him the same again. The way Nora had shrunk away from him after she’d seen it, after he’d slaughtered two men who had snuck into their house one night, it haunted him. He’d never gotten any better at control, at leashing that beast. Maybe that’s why Danse drew him so, because he had the one thing Nate never had managed: control.

 

“I do not. I am your sponsor, that’s it. You just enjoy getting a rise out me.”

 

Nate winked. “Oh, I’d love to get a rise out of you.” He would swear the Paladin tried to set him up, and he loved nothing more than offering each turn of phrase, than the blush that would color his cheeks.

 

Danse clutched his hands into fists, pulling his shoulders back. “That isn’t going to happen, Initiate.”

 

“Relax. I’d never force you to do a damned thing. You don’t want me, fine. But when you decide to stop denying us both, you know where to find me.”

 

“Don’t hold your breath.” Danse stormed away, steps too heavy, as if trying to mask the retreat for what it was, fleeing.

 

Nate smiled, that smile he wore like a second suit of armor, the one that hid the violence always just beneath the surface, because he’d seen something he was damned sure the Paladin had tried to hide: The way Danse’s erection had strained against his jumpsuit before he’d run away.


	9. Haylen/Deacon - Bravery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon helped Nate destroy the brotherhood, but they saved Haylen in the process. Rhys took his own life during the battle, and Haylen can't forgive Nate or Deacon for what they did. Deacon is tasked with watching over her, because Nate is afraid she won't be safe. In this section, Deacon has been wounded while protecting her, and she realizes he's been following her since the Police Station. 
> 
> This is a section of a story that sort of got abandoned when I paired Haylen with Hancock in another story. Still, I liked this part, so figured I'd post it here. :)

“What’s your name?” Haylen asked the question from across the cave they’d retreated to, her eyes locked on the blood soaking through his shirt.

 

“Deacon.”

 

“I could look at your wound, Deacon.”

 

“How do I know you won’t take another chunk out of me?”

 

Haylen shrugged. “You don’t. But, I am a field scribe, so treating battlefield wounds is exactly what I was trained for.”

 

Deacon watched her, knowing she wouldn’t hurt him. She was easy to read. That was the problem with good people, they had simple motivations, and that made them easy to predict. She was one of the rare, honest, good people. To her, treating his wound was a simple thing, an attempt to stop suffering, and hurting him would serve no purpose.

 

He nodded and lifted his shirt over his head, revealing the wound on his side.

 

Haylen knelt beside him, her breath coming in tiny puffs against his skin when she leaned in for a closer look. “Not too bad. A stimpack and a bandage and I think you’ll live. But it might be more humane to just take you out back. . .” She froze, her entire body going still.

 

“Haylen?”

 

She wet her lips with her tongue, her eyes glassy. “I said that to Rhys a few months ago, after Nate found us and helped us.”

 

The other man’s name on her lips was sad, full of longing. It wasn’t a lover; it was worse. It was all the things she’d wanted but never got. Unrequited love hurt like a bitch.

 

“I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s not worth much.” She shook her head, wiping her eyes. “Keep still, okay?”

 

She worked with an ease and efficiency that told Deacon she was a good medic. Dr. Carrington had horrible bedside manner. A few agents had threatened to shoot him after simple physicals. Haylen, however, was sweet. She pressed the stimpack in, avoiding bony areas, opting for places it would not hurt. She cleaned the wound and bandaged it, careful to not aggravate the injury.

 

She went to pull her hands away, but Deacon grabbed one. It trembled.

 

“Thank you. I know you didn’t have to take care of me, so, thank you.”

 

“Why are you here? You’ve been following me. I bet you’re the reason I had a room in Diamond City. Is this all Nate? Is he just messing with me?”

 

Deacon shook his head. “Nate wanted me to watch out for you, but I think I would have anyway.”

 

“Why? What do you want with me?”

 

“Do you know why I joined the railroad?”

 

She didn’t respond, just watched him.

 

“I wanted to save synths. I wanted to do something noble, to help. I screwed up a lot in my past, did things I’m not proud of, lost someone important to me because of it: my wife, Barbara. So I joined up to do something good, and for a while, I did. I believed that the ends justify the means. If I had to kill to save some people, it was worth it. I had to make up for what I’d done.”

 

“And now?”

 

“And now I’m not so sure. Not sure the sort of man who kills as much as I have can ever be redeemed.”

 

She looked at where he still held her hand. He found himself reluctant to let to. Her warmth sunk into some part of him that had missed that, missed any sort of a connection. Nate was the first partner he’d spent any real time with, but that was different. He didn’t go holding Nate’s hand, not like this.

 

“At least you can stand up for your friends. Maybe if I had, if I wasn’t a coward, maybe mine would still be alive.” The words slithered into the darkness of the cave, ugly, quiet.

 

“You are not a coward. Bravery isn’t just holding a gun and mowing down people. Not sure I’ve seen many who would sit in a battlefield to dress wounds, to try to save people. Don’t sell yourself short, Haylen. You’ve got bravery in spades.”

 

She still stared at his hand, at the way he touched her. She didn’t pull away, didn’t show any sign she wanted him to stop, just confusion, loneliness.

 

How the fuck had Rhys not wanted her? Deacon shook his head at the stupidity of the man. The poor woman was completely touch starved, desperate for contact. Her fingers touched his skin, tentative strokes against his wrist.

 

Deacon brought his other hand forward and stroked the top of her hand. “You want me to stop?”

 

She shook her head. “Please, don’t.”

 

“I won’t, not till you tell me to.”

 

He turned, shifted so she was in front of him, kneeling between his legs. With anyone else, this might have been risqué, but not here, not with her. He grasped her shoulders and turned her around, so her back was to him. His hands dwarfed her shoulders, and he began to rub them.

 

She arched into each touch, each press of his fingers, his palms, like she’d felt nothing better. How could such a sweet woman have gone so long without this? Deacon had gone a long time without such things, but he was different. With Haylen? It seemed a crime for her to have suffered.

 

For a moment, he wanted to kill Rhys. The stupid man had someone so amazing and he’d thrown it away, thrown her away. Hell, he hadn’t even thought about her before he took his own life in front of her. Deacon would never have given in like that and left a friend to fend for themselves. The selfish prick didn’t deserve her.

 

She whimpered, jerking, and Deacon loosened his grip. “Sorry.”

 

Her head fell forward, exposing her neck. The neckline of her shirt bagged, so it dropped over one shoulder. Deacon leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the spot.

 

She froze, her body going rigid, any of the relaxation from the massage gone in an instant.

 

Deacon couldn’t blame her. Hell, he had no right. She deserved someone a lot better than him. “Sorry,” he muttered. He’d said that already, hadn’t he?

 

She twisted back around until she rested on her knees, facing him again. “I hate you.”

 

“Good.”

 

“I can’t. . . we can’t. . . It’s not right.” Red colored her cheeks, and her voice had gone breathy. The woman almost shook with need for him to continue.

 

“You want to, though, yeah?”

 

She nodded.

 

“So use me. It doesn’t have to be about feelings and roses and love. Use me because you want to, because you need it, because you’re pissed off and want to hurt me. Hate me while you use me, I don’t care.” Even though she was the one on her knees, he was the one begging. Anything to keep touching her, to feel something good in this filthy world.

 

“I’m not Barbara.”

 

The name kicked him in the chest.

 

“And I’m not Rhys.”

 

“No, you’re not.” She leaned up took his mouth in a kiss. Her aggressiveness surprised him, but then again, anything starving could become aggressive, dangerous.

 

Her hands went to his hair, moving his wig. He captured them and set them on his shoulders, enjoying the bite of her nails.

 

Her tongue slid into his mouth, twisting with his, like she wanted to crawl into his skin. He’d give her everything, nothing mattered but pleasing her, but touching her.

 

She clawed at his pants, trying to unbutton them in the space between the two. Once she worked it free, she shoved at his shoulders.

 

Deacon scooted back to the floor and let her push him flat on his back. Anyone else, he’d have panicked. He didn’t do submission, didn’t trust people enough to let his guard down. He’d happily let her slit his throat if she wanted to, as long as she didn’t stop touching him.

 

Deacon reached for her shirt but she pushed his hands away. She slid off her pants, her underwear, and he caught only a brief glimpse of heaven before she straddled him.

 

He wanted to tell her to slow down, that they had time, but it might break this spell. He wanted this, and damn him, he wouldn’t risk it.

 

Haylen pulled his cock from his pants, and he dropped his head against the hard cave floor at the warmth of her hands. She went up on her knees, lining herself up, then sunk down on his length.

 

She wasn’t wet enough, not yet. Her face twisted, a grimace she breathed through. He reached up to help, to reach under her shirt, but with her free hand he knocked away his hands again. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed, refusing to meet his eyes.

 

She took in a deep shuddering breath, bouncing a fraction on the tip, only an inch or two inside her. Slowly she sunk further down, took more of him.

 

Deacon drew his hands into fists beside him to stay still. What fucking torture. He wanted to play with her, to finger her clit until she was screaming, begging him to fuck her, but he stayed still. After a minute, she’d seated him fully inside her, his cock twitching at the tightness, the warmth. Hell, it about screamed at him to move already.

 

Her face eased, and he felt when the pain drifted away, when her cunt had started to get wet, to welcome the invasion. She leaned forward and pressed her hands on his chest, then brought her hips up and back down.

 

He groaned, lost in the feeling, in the agony of letting her to whatever she wanted.

 

She turned her face away, closing her eyes, like she didn’t want to see him. Was she pretending he was someone else? He grit his teeth at the thought she might be fantasizing about Rhys, that he was some sort of stand in the for the Knight. Though, he was desperate enough he’d let her think that if it meant she didn’t stop.

 

Haylen sped, sliding up until only the tip remained inside her wetness before sinking down, hard, taking him deep enough she winced each time. She chased something, her hands curling into claws against his chest, her hips snapping at the movement.

 

Even if she wouldn’t look at him, Deacon soaked in the sight of her. Beautiful, straining, desperate. He wanted to remember this forever. Nothing was better than the sight of her above him, than the glimpses he’d get when he gazed between her thighs of his cock slipping into her.

 

He wanted it never to end.

 

Of course, with the way her eyebrows furrowed, the way she frowned, it might not ever end. She couldn’t get there alone, couldn’t seem to find her climax alone.

 

#

 

Haylen kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see the man beneath her, the one she used like a toy. She told herself she was thinking about Rhys, about what could have been, but she’d never been able to lie to herself.

 

She couldn’t open her eyes because then it was real, then she was here, with him, and she had to admit she wanted him.

 

So she tried to push it all away, but nothing worked. The tension in her stomach had pulled tight, her body shaking, but she couldn’t come, she couldn’t get over what was spinning in her brain.

 

And Deacon had tried to help, reached for her, and she’d almost let him. She couldn’t though, that made them lovers. They weren’t lovers.

 

She loved Rhys, and this man was the reason he was dead.

 

‘Use me.’ The words echoed in her head. Such longing in his stupid voice when he’d said it, like it wasn’t enough but he’d take anything he could have.

 

Haylen shoved it all away, focusing on her pleasure. When it became clear it wouldn’t happen, she felt his hands on her thighs. She tried to swat them, but he was too fast. He yanked her off him and up while scooting himself lower. Before she realized what was happening, he’d sat her above his face.

 

She scrambled to move away, until the first touch of his tongue. Her brain shorted out, refusing to work. His hands held her hips, his tongue sliding along her wet slit. He thrust his tongue inside her, and she moaned. He pressed it against her and drug it up to her clit, circling it, rubbing against the sides.

 

Everything crashed in on her, that release she’d worked so hard for crushing her. Her lungs seized, her back arching sharply. Her hands landed back, on his thighs, and she dug her nails in as she rode out the waves, as he drew her quivering out until she was left panting and gasping.

 

Then he pressed a gentle kiss to her pussy, something too soft and meant too much, and she pulled from his grip, rushing away.

 

He was still hard, his cock laying against his belly, glistening from her wetness. He was still fully dressed.

 

Haylen pressed her hand against her mouth to hold in a sob.

 

What had she done?

 

She’d used him, treated him like a whore. She’d refused to look at him, and he hadn’t even come. That wasn’t her. Even if she had every reason to hate him, what she’d done was wrong. It churned inside her, made her sick.

 

She drug on her pants, her body still sensitive and drenched. She heard him call her name but she didn’t listen, just ran from the cave, from him, from her own shame.

 

#

 

Deacon chased her down in the darkness. If it had been Nate, or MacCready, or anyone else it might have been a challenge. Haylen, however, wasn’t a fighter, so he followed her with ease.

 

After half a mile, at best, he overtook her. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around so she struck his chest.

 

Even in the dark he could see her face, the puffy eyes, the tears. They tore at him.

 

“Let me go,” she pleaded.

 

“It’s not safe out here, not at night. Come back. I’ll take you wherever you want in the morning.”

 

“I can’t. I can’t go back there.”

 

He tried to ignore the pang. “Am I so terrible?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Fair enough. “I won’t touch you. Just, please. It’s dangerous out here.”

 

She sagged down, like all the energy she’d had was gone, like nothing was left. He slid an arm around her back and helped her stand, taking almost all her weight as they walked back.

 

She sat on the sleeping bag beside the fire, staring into the flames, refusing to look at him.

 

He sat across from her, using a stick to poke at the fire, to keep it going. “I’m sorry.”

 

She shook, like her body wouldn’t stop, like all that energy vibrated through her. She said nothing in return, just laid down and rolled away from the fire, curling in on herself like maybe through sheer will she could hold herself together.

 

#

 

Haylen woke up, the sun peeking in through the opening of the cave. A few moments of forgetting warmed her, before the night before crashed in on her.

 

Her chest hurt, hollowed out. She’d held onto too little, and now she’d thrown away her self respect. She stood, slow, searching the cave for Deacon.

 

He sat on a ledge of the cave, awake, watching her. Even with his sunglasses, she knew when he stared at her, the way her stomach flipped, the way she wanted to adjust what little she had to look nicer.

 

Haylen darted her gaze away, unable to hold the stare. “Did you not sleep?”

 

“You talk in your sleep; did you know that?”

 

Yeah, she’d known it. Rhys had teased her about it. ‘You giggle in your sleep too, you know.’ Her cheeks had turned red, but he’d left it alone. “Yes, I know.”

 

“I didn’t trust you wouldn’t wake up and take off again.”

 

“Why would I run? You’ve followed me since the police station. You’re clearly good at it, so why would I run? I’d never escape you.”

 

“You ran last night.”

 

“And what good did that do me?”

 

He didn’t move, just another boulder along the rock cave wall. “Why did you run?”

 

“Why should I tell you?” She spat the answer back, flinching as she did so. After last night, it felt wrong to treat him like that. It was safer, though.

 

“Were you scared?” His face gave nothing away, his voice flat, as if he’d repeating these words to himself while he’d watched her sleep.

 

“Of course I’m scared of you. You killed everyone I loved.”

 

“You weren’t scared until the end. What happened? What was going through that brain of yours that sent you running? It wasn’t me, it was in there.” He pointed at her head. “So what was it?”

 

“I used you,” she admitted, turning her back to him, unable to face him. “I was a good person, you know, before this all happened. I guess that’s what happens when everything you have is taken away. I used you like a whore, and it was wrong. I wanted to hurt you. I have no control over anything, and I wanted you to feel that helplessness, so I used you like a thing for my own gratification. It doesn’t matter how much reason I have to hate you, it was wrong, and I hate myself for doing it.”

 

A hand touched her shoulder, too gentle. The way he moved without a sound amazed her. He turned her around to face him. “I’m not sorry it happened.”

 

She shook her head, eyes pinned on his chest. Safer than his face, than his eyes. “Doesn’t matter, I am.”

 

He hooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted her eyes to his. “I’ll take you anyway I can get you.”

 

She shoved his chest, but it only succeeded in pushing her back. He didn’t move. “I’m not Barbara! You can’t save me!”

 

His face hardened, the way it did every time she mentioned her. “I know you’re not.”

 

“Are you sure? Because I think I’m just a stand in for her, and you’re killing yourself trying to save me so you can forgive yourself for her. But guess what? She’s dead, and I might as well be. You can’t fix that, you can’t fix any of this.”

 

“And you closed your eyes because you wanted me to be Rhys, so let’s not pretend I’m the only one.”

 

“You’ll never be Rhys.”

 

“Oh, I know that. Rhys checked the fuck out when things got tough. He saw we had you, and instead of fighting, instead of doing anything to protect you, he blew his own brains out. You’re pining away from someone who never wanted you, someone who didn’t even lift a finger to help you. You’re right, I’m not him, and you should be damned thankful, because if I was, you’d be dead.”

 

The words washed over her like shards of glass, both because they hurt and because they were true.

 

Rhys had never loved her. She’d followed him like an idiot when he’d never wanted her. And when she was in trouble, he opted out.

 

She wanted to scream, to shove Deacon, to hit him. That’s what Nate would have done, that’s what brave people do, they fight. Haylen had no way to fight.

 

#

 

Deacon saw her crumple. She didn’t move, but everything inside her hissed away. “You’re right,” she whispered.

 

He cursed himself. He hadn’t needed to say that. His temper got the best of him at times. He liked to shove it down beneath a smile and a joke, but every once in a while, it sparked up, and when it did, it struck whoever was close.

 

And it sure had struck her, going for the weak point, digging in.

 

“Look, Haylen-“

 

She ignored him. “Will you ever leave me alone?”

 

She deserved the truth. “If I was sure you’d be safe, yes.”

 

“But I’m not strong enough for you to be sure of that, right? I’m not like you, or like Nate.”

 

“The Commonwealth is a hard place-“

 

She kept interrupting him, not allowing him to comfort her, to say anything worthwhile. “-So take me to Sanctuary.”

 

“You said-“

 

“I know what I said. But I can’t do this with you, and the only way I can be free is if I trade one prison for another. So, I’ll go to Sanctuary. I’ll put myself off in a corner of it, and I’ll stay put. Then you can get on with your life.”

 

She was willing to go somewhere she hated just to be rid of him? It stung, but he owed her that much. They all did.

 

“Alright. I’ll take you there.”


	10. Nora/MacCready- Ties and Caps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nora has lost everything and refuses to let anything tie her down now. This leads her to hiring MacCready, to keep things simple and prevent any feelings. However, she and the merc start growing closer, and she lashes out to keep him away. Can she get over her fear of being hurt, or will she destroy her second chance at happiness?

 

“Charlie serves the drinks, and I deal with the drunks,” the ghoul by the door threatened.

 

Nora responded with an eyeroll before jogging down the steps into the bar.

 

The Third Rail was, by all accounts, a dump. A throaty voice drifted up from a singer, but otherwise the place reminded her of the sort of bars her mother would have told her to stay far away from. She would have, too, if she’d been able.

 

Unfortunately, she needed help, and near as she could tell, her best bet was inside. MacCready was a name she’d heard a few times, a mercenary who didn’t come cheap, but a hell of a shot. It seemed the best option.

 

Sure, a few others had offered help. Preston, the minuteman she’d helped, and Piper, the reporter who had lied her way into Diamond City. Even Codsworth had begged to accompany her on any task she needed.

 

Nora didn’t want any of them, though. They had complications, they made ties. Ties had landed her here in the first place, what had her running across the commonwealth to try to rescue her son.

 

She needed something simple, and paying a mercenary seemed an obvious choice.

 

“Another merc looking for MacCready? He’s in the VIP area,” offered a ghoul sitting on a filthy couch.

 

Nora headed toward the VIP area, a dingy backroom bathed in red florescent light.

 

“We hear you’re still taking jobs in the commonwealth, and that isn’t’ going to work for us,” threatened one of two men standing in the center of the room, addressing a third who sat as if not worried a bit.

 

“I left the gunners. What I do isn’t your business anymore,” responded the seated man, barely older than a kid.

 

They tossed threats back and forth as Nora stood by the door, watching. It was a testosterone fueled pissing contest, and Nora felt no need to get involved. They never did anything but get piss everywhere.

 

The two men stormed out. One shoved Nora with his shoulder, knocking her into the wall.

 

She pulled her weapon and pressed it to his temple. “Say you’re sorry.”

 

“You’re making a mistake.”

 

“Maybe, but if your next words aren’t ‘I’m sorry,’ then you’ll have made your last.”

 

“Sorry,” he shoved out.

 

Nora holstered her pistol, just as the ghoul from up the stairs walked down. “Problem?”

 

“No. Just teaching these boys some manners.”

 

“She pulled a gun on me,” the man tattled.

 

“She gunned down Finn by the front gate and Hancock cheered her for it, so I’d say you should drag your lucky ass out of here.”

 

The men hesitated, but the threat must have gotten to them. Opening fire in the Third Rail meant they’d get mowed down, and even if they managed to get out, Goodneighbor wasn’t the town you wanted to make an enemy of.

 

 

#

 

MacCready watched the girl flip Winlock and Barnes the bird as they sulked up the stairs. That was the funniest thing he’d seen in a while.

 

MacCready wouldn’t get away with pulling his gun, but she seemed to have charmed the Mayor. It gave her some leeway, and he could see she didn’t mind using it to her advantage.

 

His kind of girl.

 

“Look lady, if you're preaching about the Atom or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun, then maybe we can talk."

 

“I need an extra gun and no questions. What do you charge?”

 

“250 caps.”

 

“I’ll pay you 200, plus you’ll get a cut of anything we find. I’ll also supply all ammunition and stimpacks.”

 

He tried not to look to anxious, but that was a hell of a deal. If you looked too excited, deals tended to fall apart. He frowned, as if displeased, but then nodded. “Looks like you’ve got yourself an extra gun. When we heading out?”

 

“Tomorrow morning. I walked all day to get here, and I want to be rested before we go. I’ve got a room at the Rexford if you need a place to crash. If not, I’ll meet you at 8am at the front gate.”

 

MacCready nodded as he eyed his new boss. She was young, not even thirty if he had to guess, and wore a mix of armor pieces, most with blood on them. Her hair had been shorn at the nape of her neck, and fell in waves around her face. Nothing about her stood out as particularly special, as long as you didn’t notice the confidence she walked with.

 

The woman had no fear, and he wasn’t sure if he liked that or not.

 

 

#

 

Nora stopped by Kill or Be Killed to sell off the gear she’d collection and pick up supplies. More ammunition was always better, she’d found. Having to finish off a deathclaw with a baseball bat would never happen.

 

Again.

 

“Morning, boss.”

 

Nora looked over her shoulder at MacCready standing by the doorway of the shop, the daylight giving her a better look than she’d gotten the night before. “What are you, twelve? Aren’t there child labor laws?”

 

“I’m twenty-two.”

 

“So barely old enough to drink. Great.”

 

He leaned against the doorframe, his sniper rifle across his back. “I’ve been able to drink for a while now. You don’t look all that much older than me, by the way.”

 

“If only you knew,” she muttered. “308’s, right?” She tossed him two boxes before he responded. “How’s your rifle? Armor okay? I don’t want to head out in subpar gear.”

 

He tucked the ammunition into the pockets of his jacket. “Rifle is excellent, gear is good enough. Where we headed?”

 

“I need to see a man about a detective.”

 

#

 

MacCready crouched, following the woman. She’d refused to engage in any conversation beyond simple directions, so he still had no idea her name, what she wanted, or what they were doing.

 

Still, he liked being out on work. She handled herself well, opting for distance shots when possible but not afraid to get up close when needed. Nothing rattled her, not when ferals leaped out at her or when a suicider charged her. A single well placed bullet had solved both issues, and she didn’t seem to break a sweat.

 

He’d had worse employers. Ones who short changed him, ones who used him as disposable bait, ones who wanted to rob him. She’d done none of that, and allowed him to take his cut of gear from the top. Anything he wanted, she handed off, though she had a habit of picking up junk herself.

 

They turned a corner down in the subway, after taking out a group of wanna-be gangsters with submachine guns, and a closed vault door greeted them.

 

He hesitated. Were the caps worth it after all? At least it was closed. “Looks like a dead end.”

 

The woman strolled up the stairs and lifted her arm. “Lucky for us, I have an all access pass right here.” She pulled a piece from the pipboy and plugged it in, then slammed her fist on the red button. Lights flashed and bursts of air filled the space as the large metal door began to rotate.

 

Vaults were nothing to mess with, and the idea of waltzing into this one went against everything he thought. The weight of his backpack, the caps he’d gotten already, they urged him on. He hadn’t found this sweet a job in a long time, and he needed every cap he could find.

 

He told himself to grow a pair, and followed the woman into the vault.

 

#

 

Nora cleared the men with ease. Little impressed her, but MacCready was a good shot. He’d clear targets with ease, much further back than she could manage. The caps were worth it to travel with a professional, not some do-gooder reporter who wanted her to save everyone they came across.

 

He’d tried to speak a few times, the kid great at casual snark. She’d fought to urge to smile, to engage. She didn’t need friends, she didn’t need anyone tying her down. What she needed was an extra gun, and that’s exactly what she’d paid for.

 

“Just ahead,” she whispered as they opened the door. On the second level, across the way, she gestured at the man taunting someone through a window.

 

Mr. Valentine had to be the one locked in that cell.

 

She moved aside so MacCready could take the shot, since he made her aim look like that of a blind child.

 

He kneeled, lifted the rifle, and used the sight to line the shot.

 

He was handsome.

 

Nora shook her head and looked away at the thought. No. She’d paid someone to keep that shit at bay. He wasn’t handsome; he was nothing but a gun.

 

#

 

MacCready caught her look, then the way she jerked her gaze away. She confused him. Sometimes it seemed she wanted to talk, but she’d catch herself, go silent.

 

He pushed it aside and took the shot. The man across the way fell. Perfect.

 

They raced up the stairs, where they were met with a voice. “You’ve got about three minutes before they realize muscle for brains here ain’t coming back.”

 

The woman went through the dead man’s pockets for a code to the door and unlocked it. Inside, a synth dressed in a detective costume smoked a cigarette.

 

If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. Didn’t seem to care. He’d dealt with weirder shit in his life, but he’d discovered others often rattled easier.

 

“I need you to find someone for me, but I don’t know where they went.”

 

“Well, you’ve come to the right man, if not the right place. Let’s get out of here.”

 

As she followed the synth, Nick Valentine he’d said, MacCready reached out and caught her arm. “He’s falling apart. You sure he can help you?”

 

She looked down at where he had a hold of her arm, staring at the touch as if confused by it. He released her, and the action seemed to wake her up. “I hired you to help me, not to question me.”

 

He took a step back at the jab. It was true, and he knew it, but the flat voice she used, it surprised him. “Lead on then, boss,” he muttered.

 

#

 

Nora eyed the exchange between Valentine and Skinny Malone, with the leggy brunette who’d caused all the trouble only riling things up all the more.

 

If Valentine had his way, he’d walk out without any bloodshed. Even after two weeks of being locked up, he’d let them go to kill more, to do whatever they wanted.

 

Nora wasn’t the type.

 

“So who’s the girl? I bet Nicky brought her here to rub us all out,” Darla said, her nasally voice grating on Nora’s already frayed nerves.

 

“Skinny’s no good for you, Darla. Put a bullet in him and I’ll let you walk out of here.”

 

“No one tells me what to do,” Darla said, and everything turned to shit.

 

Pain seared through Nora’s leg as she dove for cover. MacCready already had his rifle out, picking off guards, and Valentine had his stupid revolver unloading shot after shot. Nora pulled her own pistol and took aim on Darla, who had decided to rush her with a bat.

 

Bullets won over wood any day.

 

They dispatched the others in short order.

 

“I wonder if he weighs more or less with all those holes in him. I guess the bullets add a couple ounces. Goodnight, sweet prince.” Nick toed at Skinny’s body. “Come on, there’s an old service ladder that should get us out of here.”

 

Nora grit her teeth and forced herself to walk, even as pain ran through her thigh. She didn’t think the bullet had done much damage, but it hurt. Blood seeped down her jeans and into her boots, but she’d be damned if she let on.

 

She hauled her ass up the ladder, following the two men out into a filthy alleyway. She told Valentine him she’d meet him back in Diamond City before he ran off.

 

“You okay?”

 

MacCready’s hand closed around her arm, and she shoved it off. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

 

The trip to Diamond City felt like it took hours. She doubted it took more than one, but each step hurt, and her foot had gone numb as it sloshed in the blood. At least MacCready had backed off.

 

She felt like a wounded dog, and she didn’t trust the merc enough to let him see her limp. So instead, she grit her teeth and hid the grimaces under a shit ton of “fuck you” attitude.

 

#

 

MacCready followed Nora as she walked, her gait not quite right. He guessed she’d taken a fall wrong, tweaked an ankle perhaps. Leave it to the woman to be stubborn, though, to walk on it when he would have been fine to rest, to bandage.

 

If she wanted to screw herself over for pride, let her.

 

He’d gotten a few answers, at least. Her name was Nora, a fact she’d given to the detective, and she needed his help to find a missing person.

 

Who had she lost? People out there lost others all the time, but they rarely went looking. Lost meant dead, and you didn’t go looking for dead people.

 

The opening to Diamond City loomed ahead, and he lifted his lip in annoyance. He hated Diamond City. He’d been there often enough, though it had been a good while, and it never changed. Corrupt, filthy, thinking it was better than it was.

 

“You want a rest before we meet with Valentine?”

 

Nora took a deep breath, and he noted her face had gone pale. Well, more pale. She didn’t have much color to her as it was, but it had turned ashen during the trip. “Yeah. I’ve got a place here. We can unload.”

 

He considered asking her if she was okay again, but it hadn’t gone well the last time, so he stayed quiet.

 

He followed her through the market place and into one of the homes. He let out a low whistle at the huge space inside, that while lacking in much furniture, was nicer than most peoples. She had work benches on one side, a couch on the other, and a bed up the stairs. “Nice.”

 

Nora stopped by the door, wavering, before she collapsed. He rushed to her side, checking for a pulse. Fast.

 

On the ground, red caught his attention.

 

Bloody footprints.

 

He checked her arms for wounds, then her chest, back, stomach. Finally, as he touched her legs, he found it. She’d taken a bullet to the thigh.

 

Blood poured from her boot when he pulled it off. Why hadn’t she said anything? He pulled a knife from his belt and sliced her pants up to her hip. They were heavy, saturated in blood.

 

The bullet had torn a good amount of skin from her, though it seemed to have passed through. At least he wouldn’t have to fish any metal out. While he knew how, he hated to do it.

 

MacCready reached into his pack for a stimpack. He jabbed it into the muscle above the wound then pushed the plunger, watching the medication sink in. She hadn’t hit an artery, so she’d live. She wouldn’t have been so bad off if she’d just told him, if she’d stopped. A stimpack would have fixed her right up.

 

Instead, it would take a day or two to recover due to blood loss.

 

MacCready bandaged the wound, wiping off blood so she didn’t ruin her bed. He lifted her, surprised she was so much lighter than he would have guessed. Maybe it was the attitude she walked with that made her seem bigger. When she was cradled in his arm, he realized she was small, a tiny thing really.

 

He carried her up the stairs, depositing her in the bed. He’d sell the gear he’d collected, run some errands, and check back in with her in a few hours. If she wasn’t awake by then, he’d use another stimpack.

 

#

 

Nora’s leg ached, and she considered gnawing it off. It couldn’t possibly be worse than this subtle, tingling pain.

 

“Wouldn’t hurt so bad if you hadn’t been an ass.”

 

Nora frowned at the voice. Nate didn’t call her an ass. He was the sweet, quiet type. “Well aren’t you in a mood this morning?”

 

“Happens when you act like an idiot.”

 

She opened her eyes, a smile across her lips, until she saw who sat in a chair beside the bed.

 

Not Nate. MacCready.

 

Nate was dead. She took the words and shoved them deep down. She couldn’t forget that. “What happened?”

 

“You took a bullet to the thigh and thought you could walk it off.”

 

“It just grazed me.”

 

“No, it took a piece of your thigh the side of a cap out. You almost bled out before we got back here.”

 

She sat up, sliding back until she could lean against the wall. She slid the blanket off that leg so she could survey the damage. “You took my pants off.”

 

“Yeah, it was no picnic for me. I hope you have another pair, because I had to cut those off.”

 

The pants were no real loss, and she’d suspected the blood would have made them unusable anyway. A stop in to Fallon’s Basement could replace them.

 

She picked at the corner of the bandage, peeling it back to see the wound.

 

He was right. Ugly skin that had tried to knit back together, a sunken area and mess of scar tissue. “Guess no more bikini contests for me.”

 

“You need another stimpack.” He tossed her one. “The first one stopped the bleeding, but the next will help fix the muscle. You’ll still be weak for a few days, because your body needs to replace the blood you left from the vault to here. Next time, don’t be an ass- idiot, and stimpack it right away.”

 

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” she admitted, picking up the stimpack.

 

She’d never used one so far. She had them, had learned about them, but the idea of jabbing needles into her body freaked her out.

 

“You just shove it in?”

 

MacCready lifted an eyebrow at the innuendo.

 

“Shut up.”

 

“You’ve never used one?”

 

“I usually just try not to get shot.”

 

He rolled his eyes and sat on the edge of the bed. The ease in which he grabbed the stimpack and jabbed it into her leg told her he’d used plenty of them. As the medication spread in her thigh, the tingling sensation spread, as if her leg was trying to wake up but couldn’t manage.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“How can you not have used a stimpack before?”

 

“Just never came up, I guess. Can you get me something from that dresser? The guards will arrest me if I walk over the Fallon’s Basement like this.”

 

He went through the dresser. “Why do you have so many dresses?”

 

“I like dresses, okay? Just throw me one. Not the sparkly ones though, those are special.”

 

He cast her a look over her shoulder that said he thought she was an idiot, but threw her a pink dress with a denim vest over the top before giving her his back.

 

Nora dressed quickly, thankful the dress meant she didn’t need to move the leg much. The tingling had turned to burning, and she was dreading the walk anywhere.  

 

#

 

MacCready turned around again when he heard Nora stand. While he scoffed at her drawers full of dresses, he had to admit, they suited her. This one fell just above the knee, hiding the damage to her thigh. She looked smaller, more delicate. He almost had trouble remembering the ease at which she’d killed when she wore that.

 

She put her hand against the wall and started down the stairs. On the second step, her leg gave out, and she stumbled.

 

MacCready caught her, expecting it. She melted into the touch, into his side, as if she were starving for it. He wrapped an arm around her waist, taking her weight easily. They went down the steps until they reached near the bottom. “See, it’s not so bad when you get some help.”

 

She went rigid, then yanked her arm from his grip and nailed him with a look that made him thankful she wasn’t armed. “We are not friends. I don’t need your help. You are an extra gun, and that is it.”

 

He released her, allowed her to fall back down on the stairs. “Fine. Good luck. I’ll be at the Dugout Inn.”

 

He slammed the front door on his way out.

 

 

#

 

 

Nora sat on the stairs, shoving back tears in case he walked back in.

 

She’d screwed up. The way he’d taken her weight, the relief in her leg when she didn’t have to stand on her own, she’d soaked it up like desert sand. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to crawl inside the warmth he’d offered, to let someone else shoulder the weight for a while.

 

But then she’d woken up.

 

She was alone. She had to be alone. There was no one else to help her, because she couldn’t let herself be helped, couldn’t rely on anyone else. It had nearly destroyed her once, and she wouldn’t ever be there again. Couldn’t ever be.

 

So she’d shoved him away before he got any closer, before she realized any more of what she was missing.

 

He’d stormed out, and she couldn’t blame him. That’s exactly what she’d wanted, for him to be angry, for him to draw lines just like she did.

 

They weren’t friends. They couldn’t be friends.

 

She repeated it to herself as she pulled herself back to her feet and struggled to walk.

 

She was on her own.

 

#

 

MacCready drank his beer in the Dugout Inn and cursed Nora.

 

Stupid woman.

 

Not that he’d leave. She was still a great job, and if she killed herself making stupid choices, that was fine with him. He’d just gather his caps until that happened.

 

Still, the sight of her on the steps bothered him. It caused an ache in the center of chest he couldn’t identify, didn’t want to identify.

 

He’d dealt with the fact that everyone wanted something from you, that everyone would kill you for a good enough reason. He got that, could respect it. Still, the way she shoved at him, it bothered him.

 

He shook his head and ordered another. He’d get good and drunk before heading back. Hopefully she’d be asleep by then, and tomorrow they could start over again.

 

#

 

Nora laid in the bed, her dress still on. After buying new clothes, she lacked the energy to change. She didn’t see a point, either. The leg felt better, though she still was weak, just like he’d said.

 

She wondered if he’d come back. Maybe he’d decide the job wasn’t worth it, wasn’t worth putting up with her, and he’d walk his ass back to Goodneighbor for easier work.

 

The door opened and her relief surprised her when he walked in.

 

Not walked, stumbled.

 

The scent of alcohol hit her nose. He was wasted.

 

He used the wall to steady himself as he walked to the couch. A quick glance in her direction, as if checking on her, even though in the darkness he wouldn’t be able to see her.

 

He all but fell into a sitting position on the couch, dropping his head backward.

 

Nora traced the lines of his body with her gaze. He wasn’t that much younger, she admitted, if you took out the whole 220 years as an ice cube. She was only 25, and he was 22. The way he handled the wasteland, the shadows in his eyes, it was clear he wasn’t the sort of 22 she’d grown used to in the old days. He hadn’t lived easy years, though she’d learned no one did in this world.

 

Before she thought better of it, she raised from the bed and crept down the stairs, careful to move slowly.

 

Not that she was entirely sure he was even awake.

 

He was thin, all sinew and muscle, a body sculpted by hard work and close calls. He wasn’t someone who lived because he was good, or because he was lucky, but because he was callous and took what he needed.

 

That drew her to him, the way nothing mattered more than himself. She needed that, needed to remember it and hold it close.

 

Nora straddled his lap.

 

He lifted his head, staring at her as if confused. “Boss?”

 

“Shut up,” she said and pressed her lips to his.

 

#

 

She tasted like mint. It was odd, and one of the few things that he could taste over all the liquor he’d poured down his throat.

 

He thought about asking more questions, but her shut up seemed like a pretty damned good idea, so he wrapped her hands in her hair and kissed her back.

 

She writhed against him, her hands pulling at his shirt, then at the fly of his pants. Screw foreplay, he figured. He’d been ready to go the second she’d gotten into his lap. If she wanted hard and fast, he’d lay back and let her have it.

 

She wrapped her fingers around him and drew him from his pants. She swallowed his groans at the touch. His cock touched her slick entrance.

 

No panties. He almost came then and there. Thank God the liquor dulled his senses enough to hold out as she sank down on his length.

 

“God, yes,” he muttered as she dropped head back, riding him, her nails digging into his shoulders. “You feel amazing.” 

 

“Quiet,” she snapped. She paused, as if she felt bad. “Sorry, just, no talking, okay?”

 

“Whatever you say, just don’t stop what you’re doing.” He put his hands on her waist to time her movements, before he began to thrust his hips up, wanting her harder, deeper, more.

 

“Fuck,” she gasped out at the invasion, her nails scouring new wounds. He felt the trickle of blood down his back, but he didn’t care. Let her scrape canyons in his skin if she wanted. He hadn’t felt this good in years. “Again.”

 

He obliged, slamming into her, drawing every strangled moan from her lips. He took one hand and reached under her dress, finding her clit with ease. He rubbed at it, forcing her higher, drawing her closer.

 

She gasped, her thighs tightening around him, her body shuddering. She looked so damned beautiful right then, he captured her mouth again before reaching his own climax.

 

She leaned forward, against his chest, as if every bit of energy she had were gone. He couldn’t blame her; his muscles weren’t exactly begging to be used either. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple.

 

#

 

Nora felt the kiss and the world crashed in on her.

 

She shoved from his lap, ignoring the wetness that trickled down her thighs. That kiss was too tender. This hadn’t been about tenderness, about feelings. “Don’t do that,” she snapped.

 

“Do what? I was inside you a second ago; I can’t imagine a kiss would have bothered you.”

 

“That was fucking, nothing else. Go to bed. Sleep off the liquor. We leave in the morning.”

 

She stumbled up the stairs, fleeing from him, from the way he’d held her. She couldn’t give into that, into any of it.

 

One last look backward showed him sitting there, something between confusion and anger across his face.

 

 

#

 

 

MacCready couldn’t get the night before out of his head. Even as Nora stormed ahead of him, ignoring him, he couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened.

 

He watched the sway of her hips, the way her ass looked when she bent forward to pick things up, hell, even the way she shot things. Everything she did reminded him of how she’d felt wrapped around him the night before.

 

Perfect.

 

Then she’d lost it and all but ran back upstairs, and he’d sat there, trying to get his brain to work. Even after the blood had vacated his cock, he still couldn’t figure her out.

 

She’d kissed him like she was desperate, but the second he showed her an ounce of kindness, she took off running.

 

He paused.

 

Was that it? The girl was stubborn and independent. Every time he did anything that could be seen as helpful or nice, she bolted.

 

He considered that as he followed her, as they followed the dog across the commonwealth.

 

“So you going to tell me where we’re going?”

 

“I thought when I hired you, I told you no questions.”

 

“You didn’t hire me for sex either, but I guess things change.”

 

She turned around, nailing him with a glare. “I wasn’t aware I was paying you for that.”

 

“Would you prefer if you were?”

 

“Maybe then you’d shut up. You’ve got a smart mouth, and I find I don’t enjoy it.”

 

He stalked up to her, a smirk across his face. “Then clearly I’m not using it right.” He shoved her against the shack beside them.

 

She didn’t struggle, but didn’t look entirely sure, either. He sunk to his knees, undoing her belt and sliding her pants and underwear down. He took one leg out, watching for signs that she wanted him to stop.

 

He looked up at her and ran his finger over her slit. It won the battle on her face, as she bit her lip and leaned back, against the wall, giving in.

 

MacCready laughed before leaning in for a lazy lick across her clit. She whimpered, squirming. “Hold still,” he snapped.

 

The words sent a shiver through her.

 

Bingo.

 

He hoisted one leg up, on his shoulder, so he had better access. He fastened his mouth over her clit, sucking, while he plunged two fingers into her pussy.

 

She jerked in surprise, but he tightened his grip on her thigh in warning, and she settled. He licked her without mercy, ignoring the way she whimpered, the way she cried out. He slid his fingers deep, curling them forward to hit just the right spot.

 

The muscles in her thighs quaked as she struggled to stay standing, as her knees wanted to give out. He didn’t give her any reprieve, driving her toward the climax he wanted from her.

 

He bit down on her clit, not hard, but enough. She seized around his fingers, her head slamming backward into the wall.

 

MacCready slid his fingers from her and held her hips as tremors shook her.

 

No kindness, he reminded himself. He eased her down until she sat before him. “Bet you like my mouth now. Catch up when you get dressed.”

 

He turned around and walked ahead.

 

 

#

 

 

 Nora took aim and downed another synth. Why the fuck did Kellogg have so many synths protecting him? Every piece of information she found made less sense.

 

Of course, MacCready and his damned mouth weren’t helping her focus any. After their pitstop, he’d been standing ahead, smoking, like nothing had happened at all. In a way, she’d been thankful. At least he wasn’t trying to be sweet, but it still stung.

 

“Never thought you’d show up knocking on my door,” Kellogg’s voice said over the speakers.

 

MacCready shot her a look. “So I take it you know him?”

 

“Oh yeah. He visited me a while back, and I plan to repay him for it.”

 

“Sounds good to me.” MacCready aimed high and shot down a laser turret. “Lead the way.”

 

#

 

MacCready kept his rifle aimed at the mercenary. The man made him take pause, as if looking into his own future.

 

Was that who he would become? If he lived long enough, would he be the worthless scumbag who stole people’s kids?

 

At least it was a few more pieces to Nora’s past. Kellogg had gunned down her husband and stolen her child. Her attitude made a bit more sense, and if anyone could understand, it would be him. After Lucy had died, he never really gotten his feet beneath him, and he still had Duncan. If he’d lost them both?  
God, he hoped he didn’t lose Duncan.

 

“I think we’ve waited long enough.” Kellogg hit a stealth boy, and his synths opened fire.

 

Nora and MacCready were faster, though. She aimed at Kellogg, and he took out the synths. He figured her revenge deserved some sating, so he left him all to her.

 

“All that tech, you were barely even human,” Nora said, staring down at what was left of Kellogg. Inside his skull, metal bits shined. She crouched down and dug in the bloody mess.

 

“Ah, Jesus, Boss. That’s disgusting.”

 

“Look, if any of this junk can help me find Shaun, I’ll dismember as many corpses as it takes. You don’t have the stomach for it? Look the other way.”

 

He followed her advice and walked toward the elevator to wait. Let her go all butcher on the body.

 

#

 

Nora tossed her gear on the bed of the Rexford Hotel room. “If there is one thing I miss, it’s mass transit. Or cars. Oh, God, what I would give for a car.”

 

MacCready dropped his bag near the door. “What are you talking about?”

 

She shook her head. “Nothing. How you doing on ammunition?”

 

“Great. Picked a bunch up off the raiders.”

 

She nodded and opened her pack, spreading out what she’d grabbed. Usually, MacCready grabbed whatever he wanted, but she liked to make sure he got his fair share. Keeping him happy did matter, because she doubted she’d find another traveling companion as good with a gun, or as willing to do whatever she wanted, as him. She didn’t want him thinking he could get a better deal elsewhere. “Here, take this chest piece. Should fetch a good price.”

 

“I got enough, don’t worry.”

 

“It’s fine.” She shoved it toward him along with a pile of caps.

 

“I don’t need it. Seriously, you give me more than half of what we pick up already.”

 

“I just don’t want you to-” She stopped herself.

 

He frowned. “I’m not going anywhere. This is a good deal, and it’s working fine for me, okay?”

 

“It took me a long time to find someone to travel with, and I just don’t want to have to start over.”

 

“I can’t imagine you couldn’t find someone easy. Valentine and Piper seemed quick to jump to your side.”

 

She shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, I’ve got plenty of people willing, but they want to save everyone, and I’ve got my own problems. You aren’t likely to shoot me in the back, but are willing to shoot anyone else in the back, so you’re the best bet.”

 

“Come on now, don’t flatter me.”

 

Nora rolled her eyes and threw one of the hats she’d picked up at him. He caught it and threw it back.

 

“I’m serious, Nora, I’m not going anywhere.”

 

The words halted her.

 

Everyone was going somewhere. It’s what they did. Didn’t matter how much they swore they wouldn’t, they left eventually. Life screwed you over that way.

 

“It’s late. I’m going to bed.”

 

She didn’t wait for a response before laying down and rolling over.

 

Life loved to screw you.

 

#

 

MacCready watched the joy seeped from her face. Sure, he’d known that last line wouldn’t go well, but he’d had to try. He needed to push at the lines, to figure out where they were. What he’d found was that the girl was terrified of losing people.

 

After knowing about her son and husband, he could understand that.

 

She wanted him around, that was obvious, but she didn’t want to want him around. She fought herself on it each step, as if reminding herself that nothing lasted, that you couldn’t rely on anyone.

 

He shook his head and left the room.

 

How was he supposed to get past that? How was he going to break past a wall she’d built so well.

 

Why did he even want to get past it?

 

MacCready wasn’t one for relationships. All he had time for was Duncan, and at the end, that’s what he was doing here. He was earning the caps he needed, getting himself closer to that cure.

 

Even so, he wanted to figure her out. He wanted her to look at him and not see fear.

 

Time, he told himself.

 

Time.

 

 

#

 

MacCready counted the caps they’d collected from the group of gunners outside Goodneighbor. He had to admit, those were some of his favorites.

 

“You always count them. You have a specific bobble in mind?”

 

He had to think about what she meant, which happened often. She said things in a way he’d never heard, as if the whole language was slightly different. Same words, different meanings. It hit him. “No, I’m not trying to buy anything. Not exactly. I just, well. . .” He hesitated. Did he want to tell her? Would she throw him out?

 

No, they were getting along well enough. “You remember those two guys from the night you hired me?”

 

“Yeah. I threatened to shoot one.”

 

“Not that that narrows it down much, but yeah, them. I used to run with them, until I couldn’t stomach the work anymore. It’s hard to get by sleeping with one eye open, and I know they’re just waiting for a shot. I want to buy them out.”

 

“Why don’t you just kill them?”

 

“I would if I thought I could get away with it. They have a small army of gunners with them at all times, and even if I set up a time to pay them, how do I know they won’t just shoot me and take the caps anyway?” As he spoke, he realized how much the situation bothered him.

 

He’d been on his own most of his life, and being under someone’s thumb rubbed him raw. He hated it, looking over his shoulder, worrying someone would sneak in and slit his throat. How could he help Duncan if he had to deal with Winlock and Barnes?

 

Nora nodded, as if considering options, figuring out a problem. She was good at that, at breaking things down into tasks she could complete.

 

“Stop thinking about it,” he said. “This is my problem, and I’ll figure it out eventually.”

 

 

#

 

Nora threw the typewriter against the wall.

 

Fuck it. Fuck the raiders. Fuck this whole world.

 

“That’ll show it,” MacCready muttered as he fished through the pockets of one of the raiders.

 

“Do you have any idea how much I hate raiders?”

 

He nodded toward the bodies across the floor. “Pretty good idea.”

 

“When did fucking raiders take over the world? Used to be a decent place where you didn’t get shot at for walking by a building.”

 

“I guess I missed those days, because this is exactly how I remember it.”

 

“You’re a child, what do you know?” She was pushing him, but she couldn’t help it. The days had bled into each other, the tension drawing higher. He hadn’t touched her since before Kellogg’s, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask him, to beg, to make a move. So instead she’d needled him, pushing him, hoping for a reaction beyond snark or sarcasm.

 

#

 

MacCready didn’t miss the flush in her cheeks, the way her chest hammered. The woman was wound up, and he was her only target.

 

He knew what she was doing, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a surge of annoyance. “I’m not a child. I’ve saved your ass again and again.”

 

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day,” she spat before turning around to search the drawers of a desk.

 

Before he knew what he had planned, MacCready was behind her, shoving her down onto the desk. He placed his hand in the small of her back to hold her still.

 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

 

“Showing you exactly how much a man I am,” he hissed in her ear before yanking down her pants.

 

She didn’t struggle, instead spreading her legs as far as the pants around her thighs would allow. This was what she’d wanted, clearly. She wanted him, but she couldn’t ask him, wouldn’t lower herself to that. So instead she’d shoved him until he shoved back. Part of him hated her for manipulating him, but the other didn’t care as long as he got to be inside her again.

 

He lined himself up and shoved into her hard. When he felt sure she wouldn’t move, he placed his hands at her hips. “You want to apologize?”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Gladly.” He drew out and thrust in again, relishing the way she shuddered beneath him. “Look at that, you can be good.”

 

“You stupid son of a bitch,” she started, and he got the sense she’d go on for quite a while. Unwilling to hear the names, he pulled her up, her back against his chest, and wrapped a hand around her mouth.

 

“Be nice, now. Wouldn’t want you to say anything you might regret.” He continued to thrust into her, her coming back to meet his thrust, as if she couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get him deep enough.

 

He took his hand from her mouth and held her hips, holding her still for him. He gave her what she wanted, taking her hard, fast, not caring about her pleasure.

 

Though, by the obscene moans that filled the building, she found her own pleasure.

 

He chased his own orgasm, letting her attend to her own. She’d pushed him for days, and he’d earned his fun. He used her body to get himself off, to enjoy his own release. Too fast, he felt it coming, felt his body giving in. He dug his fingers into her hips so hard, he knew she’d be bruised, as he came.

 

Had she come? He hadn’t paid any attention, and as soon as his breathing started to slow, as he slid out of her, shame overtook him.

 

Had he been too rough? Was it too far?

 

He touched her back, but she rolled her shoulder to shove him off. She pulled her pants up and moved away from the desk.

 

“You okay?”

 

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of caps. She tossed them on the desk. “Guess I ought to pay you for that, huh?”

 

He stared at the caps while she walked out.

 

 

#

 

Nora leaned forward, her stomach heaving up her lunch.

 

The sighted of MacCready’s face when she’d thrown the caps, the way he’d stared, it made her sick. How could she have done that?

 

Even she knew it was wrong. She might be an asshole to everyone, but it was too far, and it was wrong, and she’d hurt him.

 

She couldn’t face him, couldn’t stand seeing his face after that. Each time she thought about it, she’d start trying to evacuate her stomach again.

 

He might be an asshole, but he was the closest thing to a friend she had, and she’d treated him like a whore.

 

And now, instead of facing him, instead of apologizing like any normal person would, she was walking the long distance to Diamond City far enough in front of him that she didn’t risk seeing him.

 

In the rare times she couldn’t avoid him entirely, she would duck his gaze, avoiding it.

 

She had to make it right, if she could.

 

“I’ve got an errand,” she said.

 

“Where we going?” His voice was flat. She hated it.

 

“I have to do this alone. Can you head to Sanctuary?” She pulled out a map and circled the settlement for him. “It’s here. I’ll be there in a couple days.”

 

They hadn’t gone to Sanctuary, because she knew he wouldn’t approve. Sanctuary was her tiny attempt at doing something good, and fuck knew that wasn’t in her nature. So he’d get a view into her little world, one he hadn’t seen yet. Oh well, this errand was important.

 

“You don’t need help?”

 

She shook her head. “It’s easy. I’ll be there, two, three days tops. Tell Preston I sent you, and he’ll make sure you get anything you need.”

 

“Sure. You’re the boss.” He hefted the strap of his pack onto his shoulders and took off toward Sanctuary without even a goodbye.

 

Yeah, Nora had fucked up. She just hoped she could fix it.

 

#

 

MacCready walked into the settlement like he’d found the wrong place. It was across a rickety wooden bridge he trusted only because he hated water that much. The place used to have good homes, back before the bombs, but now it only had shells.

 

Shells, and a hell of a lot of turrets. They sat on every roof, a few more along the perimeter. They had to have cost a fortune.

 

What were they hiding here?

 

“Hold up, there. Who are you?”

 

MacCready lifted his hands. “My name’s MacCready. Nora told me to come here.”

 

The man speaking walked from around the building wearing a Minuteman costume. “The General sent you?”

 

“General? Who is that? I said Nora.”

 

The man gripped the gun tighter, as if MacCready had answered wrong. “You got any proof?”

 

“Don’t kill him. Nora would be furious, and you know she shoots things when she’s mad.” Nick walked around the corner, his stupid trench coat in place.

 

“You know him?”

 

“That’s the merc Nora cruises around with. Where is she?”

 

MacCready lowered his hands when the man lowered his plasma rifle. “Don’t know. She said she had an errand to run and would meet me here in a couple days. What is this place?”

 

Nick waved him closer. “This is Sanctuary. Nora built it up from the ground as a safe place for settlers.”

 

“She didn’t just build it, she armed it to the teeth.” 

 

“Would you expect anything less?”

 

He shook his head. No, he wouldn’t. Nora didn’t half-ass anything, and any place she frequented would have good defense. The woman didn’t trust anyone or anything.

 

“What did he mean by General?”

 

Nick lit a cigarette and handed it to MacCready. “She never mention that? She’s the General of the Minutemen.”

 

He stopped, looking around at the soldiers in Minutemen uniforms who walked around. He’d seen the increase in Minutemen in the past few months, knew they were rebuilding, but he’d had no idea Nora had been involved. She could be secretive, the way she always spoke to other people when he wasn’t around, the few jobs she’d take without him. It hadn’t bothered him, since she always made sure he had caps and a safe place to wait for her.

 

Now it bothered him. She’d kept this all from him.

 

Why?

 

 

#

 

The drop of gear on the floor had MacCready’s weapon at his shoulder before he had even risen from the bed.

 

“Just me.” Nora’s voice had him lowering the gun and sighing.

 

It had taken her four days, and he’d started to worry. The idea that she’d just never come back had plagued him, that he’d never even know what happened. Had she run off? Had their last fight been too much? Had she been captured, or killed?

 

“I’m sorry,” she said as she sat on the couch at the center of the room. She moved slow, as if she were in pain.

 

“What?”

 

“I’m sorry about the caps. That was wrong, and it was cruel, and it wasn’t about you. That was all about me.”

 

Without light, MacCready couldn’t see her well, but the darkness that covered her could only be blood. “It’s okay. Are you hurt?”

 

“A bit,” She admitted. “But it’s not bad. This is important, and you know I don’t apologize often, so listen. I don’t have anything anymore. Kellogg stole my family, and the bombs stole the rest of my world. I’m from a vault, from before the war. Fitting in, losing everything and starting over, it’s hard. I look at you and it scares the shit out of me. Until you, I was okay with losing everything. I never let anything get close enough that I’d miss it, that I’d care when it disappeared. You, I’d miss, and that fact scared me, and I was a coward and lashed out at you for it.” She rubbed at her eyes like she hadn’t slept in days. “Shit, MacCready, I’m just trying to say I’m sorry. I can’t change what I did, and I don’t think I can even change who I am, but I want you to know I’m sorry.”

 

He let the words sink in. He’d known most of it, even about the vault. A few days with Nick had let him in on a few of her secrets.

 

He’d expected her to show up the same as always, and this quiet moment stole his anger. She hurt. He could see it in her eyes, in her words. Everyday she hurt, and she was desperate to not hurt anymore, to not let anything else hurt her.

 

He could understand that.

 

“It’s okay. If anyone understands losing things, it’s me. We’re good. Now, let me get some light so we can make sure you don’t bleed out.”

 

“Again?”

 

He laughed and nodded. “Yeah, again.”

 

#

 

Nora watched as MacCready set about lighting the barrel in the house. She knew she wasn’t hurt much. She’d taken a few hits, but she’d braved the stimpacks this time. That’s what happened when you learn the hard way what avoiding them does.

 

Once the fire was going, MacCready checked her face. “You lose a fight? See what happens when you leave me behind.”

 

“Oh, I won. You should have seen the other guys.”

 

“Everything is healed up, it looks like. I think you’ll live.”

 

“At least another day. I’m going to crash. It’s hard sleeping out there, and I need some rest.”

 

MacCready nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Sure. I’ll head out, give you some quiet.”

 

#

 

MacCready sat in the light of the main house. It held the work stations and a ton of beds for anyone who needed to crash. He’d stayed in Nora’s house, down at the end, while she was gone.

 

Nora had been sleeping for a few hours, and he’d spent the time wandering, chipping in where he could. He didn’t like feeling like a burden.

 

“She okay?” Preston sat beside MacCready and held out a cup of water.

 

“Yeah. A big banged up, but breathing fine.”

 

MacCready hated the man. He couldn’t help it. He was kind, generous, looked out for others. It was everything MacCready was against. He wasn’t even charming like Nick, or pretty, like Piper. He was dull and good.

 

“You hear about the Gunners?”

 

“What about them?”

 

“A group of them up at the Mass Pike Interchange were slaughtered a few days ago. Some settlers sent word to let me know, since they’d been having trouble with them.”

 

“All of them are dead?”

 

Preston shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know they found bodies, a lot of bodies. It didn’t look like anyone walked out of it.”

 

MacCready sat back, resting his back against the wall.

 

All dead? Could he really be free? It was possible Barnes or Winlock could have escaped, but they weren’t the clever type. They were full of themselves, and more likely to stand their ground than run.

 

The optimism drew a smile. Maybe he’d find out tomorrow it wasn’t true, but for tonight? For tonight he wanted to celebrate.

 

“I’m going to check on her.” He didn’t wait for a response from the dull man, and jogged over to the house.

 

He’d make Nora some food. She’d slept for a while, and she’d feel better with some food.

 

Her bag jangled when he lifted it, which it always did since she filled it with junk. She’d have cram, because she always kept a few cans. Her favorite was cram with mirelurk eggs, and lucky her, he happened to have one.

 

He reached in, toward the bottom, looking for the can he knew was there.

 

Got it.

 

He pulled it out, ignoring the way he had to have grabbed something else, until his hand came out of the bag with a set of dogtags.

 

He frowned and lifted them, reading the names, even though he knew who they belonged to.

 

They were the dogtags of Winlock and Barnes.

 

 

#

 

Nora woke in the dark, startling for a moment before realizing she was in Sanctuary. The quiet hum of the turrets greeted her, telling her the defenses were still up.

 

“You killed them?” MacCready sat in a chair next to the bed.

 

“What?”

 

He tossed the dogtags onto the bed. “That’s why you were hurt? That’s what your errand was?”

 

Nora looked at the dogtags, deciding if she could come up with a convincing lie. She couldn’t. It was written all over his face: he knew.

 

“Yeah, that was my errand.”

 

“Why?”

 

She sat up and folded her legs so she could face him. “I wanted to make things right. I told you I can’t apologize worth shit, so I thought, maybe that would help. Maybe I’d help you, and it would be okay.”

 

“You didn’t tell me. How can you expect me to forgive you if you didn’t even tell me you’d done it?”

 

“I didn’t do it so you’d forgive me. I did it for you, just to help. I did it because you had a problem and I wanted to help you. I hurt you already, and I wanted to help you.”

 

He frowned, staring still at the dogtags, like he didn’t understand them. “I get the strangest feeling you actually care about what happens to me.”

 

She let her shoulders sag. “I do. God knows I tried not to, but I do.”

 

He reached out and took her hand in his. “Look, Nora, I can’t do this.”

 

“What?”  She tried to pull away but he held her.

 

“I can’t pretend like you don’t matter to me. I get it, I do. I know you want this whole no strings attached thing, that you’ve lost more than anyone should ever have to lose, but I can’t do it. I can’t keep going on as if this isn’t important to me, as if you aren’t important to me.”

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“You have to make a decision. Do you want us or not? No more of this fu- screwing as if we hate each other thing, no more shoving me away because it’s easier. I either want you, or we need to go our own ways. You’re afraid of losing me, but every time you do that I lose you, and I can’t do it anymore.”

 

Nora let her hand drop from his. Could she do that? Could she really risk herself again like that?

 

She thought about how happy she’d been when she and Nate had been married, when she first held Shaun. Then the pain when she’d watch Kellogg steal them both away from her.

 

Then she imagined MacCready walking away, or worse, seeing him killed.

 

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

 

MacCready nodded, as if he hadn’t expected anything different. “Alright. I’ll pack my things, and I’ll be out of here by morning.”

 

He walked out, the silence closing in around her.

 

She was alone, again. That was safe, right? She couldn’t get hurt if she was alone.

 

Why the fuck did she hurt so much, then?

 

 

#

 

Nick frowned as he watched Nora. MacCready had been gone for three weeks, and the woman hadn’t said a word about it.

 

Sure, Nick knew what was going on. His detective skills meant he noticed a hell of a lot more than people gave him credit for. He couldn’t say he approved of MacCready’s ethics, but he’d been good for her. They’d been good for each other.

 

Something in her broke when he left in the middle of the night, though, something he didn’t see healing.

 

She went out alone, now. She didn’t take him, or Hancock, or even Deacon. She would leave for days at a time, come back covered in blood and wounds, sleep, then do it all again. She rarely spoke, retreating further into herself than before.

 

He didn’t know how to fix it, but he had to do something.

 

“Hey, Doll, I brought you some food.” Nick walked into her house. The lack of doors meant a lack of knocking. He just called loud enough for her to expect him, since being shot wasn’t high on his list of desires for the day.

 

“Thanks.” She came out from the back bedroom, her eyes sunken in. Must not be sleeping.

 

“Sit down, we need to talk.”

 

She narrowed her gaze, and he thought he might get shot anyway. Instead, she sat, crossed her arms, and he suspected threw a few vulgar insults at him in her head.

 

“How are you doing?”

 

“Fine.”

 

“I know you better than that. Don’t lie to me.”

 

“I don’t need therapy from the synth who dresses like a noir detective novel.”

 

“Why’d you send him away?”

 

“You just love to cross those huge ‘do not cross’ verbal lines, don’t you?”

 

“It’s part of my charm.”

 

She didn’t respond right away, as if deciding how to proceed. “How do you know I sent him away?”

 

“Man doesn’t walk away from a woman looking that sad if it’s his choice.”

 

She pressed her lips together and nudged at the dirt on the floor. “He wanted more than I could give him.”

 

“I’ve seen you kill a deathclaw with a baseball bat. Can’t imagine there is much you couldn’t give him if you wanted to.”

 

“Fine. He wanted more than I’m willing to give. It’s over, he’s gone, nothing left to talk about.”

 

“How do you figure that? You’re attitude the last few weeks tells me there’s something to talk about. So, what did he want that you were so unwilling to give, because, kid, I’ve seen you looking at him and him looking at you and neither of you seem all too unwilling.”

 

“He wanted more. Like, love, and forever, and all the bullshit.”

 

“And?”

 

“And I tried that once, and it nearly destroyed me. You know what happened, Nick, and I can’t lose everything again. I can’t survive it again.”

 

“Doll, everyone loses everything eventually. It doesn’t mean you take nothing, it doesn’t mean you cut yourself off. Do you wish you’d never had Shaun?”

 

“What? Of course not.”

 

“So he was worth the pain. And I bet you don’t regret marrying your husband either, regret any of the days you had together. You wouldn’t trade a single one of them for all the pain.”

 

She wouldn’t meet his gaze, but he saw the wheels turning, saw her considering his words.

 

“So if those things were worth it, even if they killed you, why isn’t MacCready?”

 

“It would hurt too much to lose him.” 

 

“And how are you feeling now, because I’ve got say, you don’t exactly look like a woman avoiding much pain. The way I see it, you did lose him, you just are deciding to lose him a lot quicker than you had to.”

 

Nora’s gaze darted up to his, and he saw it. He saw the moment she realized he was right, the second she shoved aside all the lies she’d stuffed inside her head. “What did I do?”

 

“You made a mistake. We all do it.”

 

She hopped up out of the seat. “What do I do?”

 

“Go get your boy, Doll.”

 

“I don’t even know where he is.”

 

Nick held out a folded piece of paper. “Lucky coincidence that you happen to know a damn fine detective then, isn’t it? He asked me to look into something, and I’d bet you anything this is where he is.”

 

 

#

 

MacCready shot the feral just before it reached him. This was his third attempt to clear the medical center, and so far his best.

 

Sure, he’d taken a few hits, and he doubted he’d manage this time, but day by day, inch by inch, he’d clear it all. He had to. The cure for Duncan was in the building. He just had to reach it.

 

He missed Nora. Even thinking her name made his chest ache. How was she?

 

Fine, he’d bet. She’d probably even replaced him.

 

No. That was petty. She was hurting, too. She had her own issues, issues he couldn’t fix, couldn’t help her with. No reason being angry when he was sure she suffered, too.

 

MacCready continued to clear, until he took the elevator. After that, he found dead feral after dead feral.

 

Being the realist he was, he didn’t count his blessings. He didn’t want to face whatever took out a floor worth of ferals.

 

Still, he wasn’t about to turn back. He punched the code into the final terminal where the cure should have been.

 

Only to find Nora sitting on the counter, beside the cure. She wore one of the dresses she’d had in Diamond City, a sparkly one she’d said were for special occasions.

 

“Hey,” she said, voice low, as if she wasn’t sure he’d welcome her.

 

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

 

She smiled, then held up the cure. “Apologizing? You know I’m not good with verbal apologizes.”

 

He walked up, stepping over the body of a glowing one. “You change your mind?”

 

She bit her lip, took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yeah. Nick sort of knocked some sense into me.”

 

“Must have did it pretty hard for it to stick.”

 

“I’m terrified of losing you. When my husband died, when I watched them take my son, it was like Kellogg hollowed out my chest, like something in me was missing. We don’t live in a safe world, and I have no idea how I could survive watching you die. A stray bullet, a mine we don’t see, and I could lose you. The idea terrifies me. I would face down raiders, and gunners, and deathclaws with ease, but the idea of losing you?” She shook her head. “But, Nick reminded me that I wouldn’t give back any of the time I spent with Nate, or with Shaun, or with you. So, why would I give up whatever time we could have together.”

 

MacCready hopped up to sit beside Nora. “Do you know what that is? What it’s for?” He nodded at the cure in her hand.

 

“No. Nick didn’t know what you wanted, just knew you’d needed info on the building. What is it?”

 

“I had a wife named Lucy. While we were traveling, we were attacked by ferals. She didn’t make it.”

 

Nora’s gaze jerked to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“Not the sort of thing I share. There’s more, though. I have a son, Duncan. He survived the feral attack, but he got sick. He still is sick. I think,” he paused, swallowed hard. “I hope, this is the cure.”

 

#

 

Nora sat, dumbstruck. In all her angst, in all her pain, she’d never considered he might be similar, that he might understand. He’d lost his wife, was trying to save his son, just like her. “You have a son?”

 

MacCready nodded. “Yeah, I do. If I get this cure to Daisy in Goodneighbor, she’ll get it to him. That’s why I needed caps, why I’ve been out here. I couldn’t save him by staying there, I had to try to find a cure, and thanks to you, I think I did.” He reached out and took her hand in his. “Thank you, Nora.”

 

She’d helped him. She wished he’d told her sooner. She’d have come the moment she’d known, but even so, she smiled. Nora understood how losing a child felt, and she never wanted anyone to feel that way.

 

Nora handed the cure to MacCready, then pressed her lips against his.

 

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t seem unsure at all. He slid the cure into his pack then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “So, you’re ready for this? For us?”

 

Nora smiled and nodded. “Yeah. You’re worth any risk.”

 


	11. Maxson/Piper - Totally Professional Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper's Interview of Arthur Maxson doesn't go exactly as it is supposed to, and morning afters are always uncomfortable.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to love me.” Piper buttoned her pants, delicate fingers struggling.

 

“I wasn’t aware we were talking about love.” Arthur didn’t bother to dress, just lifted his head to rest on his hand, eyes pinned to the nervous woman before him. She hadn’t had much bravado during, either, but as soon as he’d pulled out she’d turned into a wreck. He had to admit, that shyness charmed him. Maybe it was from dealing with soldiers his whole life, but he loved the way her mouth ran when she got nervous, and she got nervous a lot.

 

“Well, I mean, we aren’t. I didn’t mean we were. Of course we aren’t, this was just a stupid moment, a dumb choice.” Her words came out fast, uncomfortable.

 

Arthur laughed, shaking his head. He grabbed her hand and yanked her back into bed. Normally Nate brought deplorables to the Prydwen with him, something Arthur overlooked because of the knight’s track record. Wasn’t he thrilled to find the little reporter following him around instead?

 

“I should go,” she said as he set a hand on her hip.

 

“Why? You wanted an interview.”

 

“Yes, but you turned that interview into, well, this.” Red covered her cheeks, like she couldn’t even voice what had happened.

 

“I’m pretty sure you started it.”

 

“I did nothing of the sort!”

 

“So your question about my sexual partners, that was purely your journalistic interests?” He pressed a kiss to her jawline.

 

“Yes. A completely professional inquiry.”

 

“And dropping your pen in front of me, then reaching down to get it? That cliché ploy was just an accident?”

 

“I’m clumsy, what can I say?”

 

Someone banged on the door. “Have you seen Piper?”

 

Arthur groaned as Piper pulled out of his grip, sliding off the bed. “Hey, Nate! Sorry, I’m just finishing up an interview. I’ll, um, I’ll meet you by the vertibird in a couple minutes. Just need to get dress- I mean, um, finish my questions.”

 

A pause, then a chuckle. “Right, an ‘Interview.’ Way to go, Pipes. Take your time, I’ll meet you when you’re done. Be thorough.”

 

Piper muttered as she buttoned her shirt, then slid her jacket on. “I am never living this down.”

 

“You don’t have to go, yet.”

 

“Yes, I really do. This was a mistake. A huge, colossal, deathclaw sized mistake. This is worse than the time I spent the night hiding beneath Hancock’s bed just to find out about the person behind the chem bust, and that was one long, terrible night.”

 

Arthur stood, then caught her around the waist and pulled her against him. It felt strange, her dressed and him still naked, but he didn’t care. He took her mouth in another kiss just to silence her constant nervous prattle. He hadn’t met a woman like her in a very long time. His days were full of Brotherhood problems, of soldiers beneath his command, and anything between them and he would be inappropriate. It left him little chance to meet others. He’d missed this, the contact, the way a willing body gave against him.

 

And something about the nervous but tenacious reporter pleased him.

 

“Come back and see me?”

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

“But there are so many topics we didn’t get to cover. A good journalist would search beneath every rock, wouldn't she?”

 

“A good journalist doesn’t have sex with the Elder of the Brotherhood.” Her voice dipped down, like she didn’t want others to hear.

 

“Some might say a great journalist would do just that, if it got her the story. Come on, Piper. Just come back and see me. Please?”

 

She shoved his shoulders until he released her. “Don’t hold your breath.”

 

#

 

Piper pulled her hat down, hoping her blush had at least gone away by the time she hit the flight deck. That laugh in Nate’s voice told her all she needed to know about his guess.

 

His very accurate guess.

 

What had she been thinking?

 

Well, mostly about how well Maxson filled out that battlecoat. She’d love to say it was something deep or less embarrassing than simple hormones, but truth was part of her life. She’d simply been drawn to him, to the way he held authority, to his intelligence, even if some of his views were nuts.

 

“Hey there, Pipes.” Nate leaned against the railing. “Have fun?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Hey, look, no judgement. Arthur is a good man. A little crazy, but good. You could do a hell of a lot worse.”

 

“It isn’t like that. It was a onetime thing, alright? Just an itch that needed scratching. There won’t be a repeat.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“How about because he is Elder Maxson of the Brotherhood and I’m a nosy reporter from Diamond City? How about because I’ve got enough on my plate without adding doomed romance to it. If I need a lay, there are plenty of people a lot less dangerous than him. Besides, it’s not like he’s looking for anything. Trust me, he’ll be over it the second I’m on the ground.”

 

Nate stared over her shoulder, so Piper looked behind her. Maxson stood at the top of the stairs, watching her.

 

Nate hopped into the vertibird. “Go ahead and spin whatever story you want, but that doesn’t look like a man who’s gotten his fill, sweetheart.”

 

Piper swallowed as she hauled herself up and into the vertibird. Arthur nodded at her just before it unhooked, and they left.

 

It had to be the last time. Whatever this was, it wasn’t smart, and Piper was all about being smart.

 

Maybe if she said it enough times, it would be true.


End file.
